


Sword of Damocles

by PInsomn



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Pasts, Blood, Death, F/F, Fighting, Gore, I'd like to say slow burn but it's complicated, M/M, Orphaned Grimmjow and Nelliel, Profanity, Prosthetics, Sex, Sibling! Nelliel and Grimmjow, Trauma, Weapons, Yakuza, f/f - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, tags to be updated with chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PInsomn/pseuds/PInsomn
Summary: 'Sword of Damocles' a modern expression, which to us means a sense of impending doom, the feeling that there is some catastrophic threat looming overhead.In Ichigo's case, there has been and always will be catastrophe lurking within the depths of the darkness.  For Grimmjow though, life is different, the blunet seems to command catastrophe and wield it like it was his own weapon.  Made for just him and only him.  Ichigo hopes to reign in that power, utilize Grimmjow in ways he's never thought possible.This is just the beginning of their companionship.





	1. Fight Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! This is the first fic I've written in a long time, but a story I've been wanting to tell for years. Well, something of the sort. In this story, I feel I've written Ichigo in a different light than most other writers have. He's not the kind-hearted, compassionate man we all know cannonly; instead he's soured from his past, jaded, cold and merciless.

            His fingers drummed against the polished surface of the table, a scowl knitting his brows and pulling his lips tight together.  A glass before him sat half empty of its spirits as he took to clipping the end of a cigar.  The room was loud with conversation, the air stale smelling of dried blood, cleaning products and alcohol.

            Seated next to him was Kensei on his left and Shinji on his right, they were members of his clan.  Both trusted companions of his as they sat watchful but relaxed, after all they were in neutral territory.  Tonight was fight night and that meant he was there to recruit some new-blood into the clan.  And of course, the entertainment, if you could call it that.

            Though so far all he'd seen were sorry-suckers hoping to win their one fight and be done for the night.  None of the fighters wanted to beat their opponents to the top, not a single damn one of them had caught his mindful eye.  It was downright maddening, but he had become used to it, the past four fight nights had ended the same way.  With him going home empty handed and a headache from the strain on his temper.

            The dimmed lights of the ring lit up suddenly as the spotlight revealed the announcer, said announcer set to working up the crowd, giving their short introduction of the last fight of the nights' contestants.  After a moment more of brooding he looked up as the fighters were revealed, a very large man whom he had seen numerous nights before stood in the corner of the ring, meaty fist pumping high into the air.

            Yammy Llargo.  A giant, boorish boy whom at first had caught his eye until he'd been laid out flat by a smaller fighter he had underestimated in the ring.  Needless to say, he was far from impressive when it came to the fights.  Usually his movements were slowed just from the sheer size of his body, but after some insight he knew Yammy had sluggish reactions.  Which meant that Yammy was of no use to him or his clan.

            The announcer introduced the second fighter and as more light shed onto the third party in the ring he tuned back in, suddenly very interested in the man opposite Yammy Llargo.  It wasn't the electric blue hair that had caught his eye, but the free, sinister smirk that was settled on the fighter's lips.  'Sexta' the announcer had called the blunet.

            His interest continued to build as he watched ‘Sexta’ regard the large Yammy before him, there was no change in his demeanor, in fact it seemed the blunet was happier than ever before as the announcer began to count down.  Then suddenly, the bell rang loudly signally for the fight to begin.

            Time slowed for him as the fight started, a burst of fists from the blunet were jack hammering away at Yammy's ribcage and winding the big bastard.  A smile grew upon his face as he watched the new fighter's unchained merciless style.  A smile that reigned in his excitement from the sheer violence before him.  The blunet was fast, much faster than anyone he had watched all night, it was as if the man had no restrictions in his mobility. 

            It was refreshing to watch, enjoyable even and at the end of the fight with a bloodied Yammy lying face-down, unconscious with his right arm dislocated.  The blunet was announced the winner and then after a polite amount of time, left the ring towards the private rooms in the back of the building.

            "Seems ya found a gem tonight, Boss."  Kensei stated, full of approval for the fighter.

            "It'd be about damn time somethin' grew from this shitshow."  He replied, finishing his glass of spirits then standing from his seat to redon his black suit jacket.  "Now gents, wait for me right here.  There’s business to be handled.”

            Both Kensei and Shinji nodded their affirmation and remained seated while he removed himself from his seat and donned his jacket in a swift motion.  His usual neutral falling back into place on his expression as he strode after the blunet, the clusters of people moving out of the way for him as he passed.  No one wanting to challenge him in fear of his wrath.

            To many he was a force to be reckoned with and to some, the ignorant, he was an intimidating man.  Though many didn’t know him, a lot felt that they did just from the rumors circulating in the air.  Most knew better than to try to get close, for he rarely allowed a sentence to pass his mouth towards someone insignificant. 

            So with a slight limp he walked amongst the crowd, chin lifted, shoulders squared and eyes set on his destination.

*.*.*

            Two taps against the door alerted him of a visitor as he tightened the towel around his waist.  He yelled for a moment then went about putting on his boxers and made his way over to the locked door.

            He had assumed to greet a fan at his door once opened, but instead was greeted by a sour faced man with long orange hair held back by a loose ponytail.  The man was dressed impressively, wearing a four-piece black suit that looked of Bespoke quality.  He’d almost guess that he was at Death’s doorstep if he hadn’t known better.

            “Can I help you?” He asked as he leaned against the doorway, watching the strange man before him. 

            In a second the man’s expression changed entirely, from stone cold to one of interest as Grimmjow watched him.

            “Ah, I feel that we can both help each other, Sexta.  May I come in?”  The oranget responded.  It was strange to him, that this man seemed to look bigger than he really was, Grimmjow put it towards the back of his mind as he allowed the stranger into the private room.

            His eyes trailing the slight limp in the stranger’s gait as he strode forth, unbothered by the dimly lit room that smelled of fresh shampoo and body wash.  The oranget seemed to make the room feel small all at once as Grimmjow closed the door and leaned against the dark wood.

            He folded his arms across his chest, watching the oranget make himself at home in one of the rooms’ chairs.  After a moment to divest himself the oranget pulled out an unlit cigar from his jacket, shooting Grimmjow a questioning glance.

            “Knock yourself out.”  And with that the man lit the end of the cigar and took a deep drag off it.

            “Your fight was impressive, one of the best fights I’ve seen in months if I’m completely honest.”  The man started as he blew out a puff of smoke.  “Ah, excuse my manners I’m Ichigo, Ichigo Kurosaki.”

            The name Grimmjow recognized, a brow arched as the realization dawned on him that he was alone in a room with the infamous Crimelord.  The Kurosaki clan was known to be unforgiving, merciless and untouchable.  Not even the police dared to get in the way of this clan, in the way of this man seated before him.  He assumed that the head of the Kurosaki clan would be taller, but nothing in his mind told him that this man couldn’t do equally the amount of damage and possibly even more so than he could within that ring.

            “Grimmjow.”  He responded.  “What can I do for an infamous crimelord?”

            “I want ya, Grimmjow.”  Ichigo responded, a faint blush creeping on his cheeks as he continued his statement.  “To work for me of course, under me.  Ah, this mouth of mine.  Ya get what I mean though, yea?”

            A small chuckle rumbled in Grimmjow’s chest a wolfish grin spreading over his features.  “I understand, but I’m afraid I hafta decline.  Fightin’s a hobby that I don’t want to make a career out of.”

           “I’m sad to hear that Grimmjow, ya woulda made a great addition to my clan.”  A frown settled on Ichigo’s expression, obviously displeased with the answer he’d received.  The oranget stamped out his cigar and stood from his seat.  As he made for the exit Grimmjow side stepped out of his way and opened the door for the man.

           “Before I go,” Ichigo began again, reaching into his jacket and withdrawing a simple black card with a cellphone number written on it with silver cursive.  “If ya change yer mind, gimme a call.  Or on the off chance ya dispose of that card, burn it for me.”

           Grimmjow accepted the card, thumbing the paper as the oranget left, as composed as he’d been since the beginning of their conversation.  The blunet watched the man with a slight limp in his gait walk off down the hall, people moving out of the way for him and then back together as he passed.

           Grimmjow knew he wouldn’t need the phone number, but still he tucked it securely within his wallet.


	2. A Storms Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, another chapter so soon! Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos, they really motivated me!

A storm was brewing, the air was tense within the small confines of the darkened meeting room. Wood crackled and popped where it was burning in the fireplace behind him. The only provided light within the room, excluding the floor to ceiling windows that currently had thick curtains drawn closed.

In the center of the room was a large round table, the sleak mahogany mirrored shadows of the fire. Seated at said table were a cluster of people; Kensei, Shinji, Nnoitra, Rangiku, Toshiro and Ulquiorra.

Ichigo sat at the head of the table, his thumb rubbing circles into the nerves of his knee above his prosthetic. His mood was soured by the negotiations laid out from one of his clans' neighboring allies.

The deal was completely one-sided, benefiting only the other clan and stepping on Ichigo's own. They wanted permission to sell their very illegal, unmentionables on his territory and they were only willing to give him a small cut of their dealings. It was arrogant of them, only because he knew they had already started encroaching upon his town. Selling disgustingly addictive narcotics to the people of Hueco Mundo.

Ichigo was not a forgiving man, a catalyst of ice had wrapped around his heart long ago making him cold to the bone. This clan would not be an ally for much longer and soon there would be blood to be shed upon his territory.

His brooding silence lingered amongst the company of his clansmen and each of them respectively remained quiet. He broke the silence with a rough grunt as he stood from his seat, snatching at his silver tie and loosening it.

"I want proof Hallibel is allowin' her clan to sell that filth on my streets. Without that my hands are tied. So, Nnoitra, take Ikkaku or whoever is free, to do some recon." He ordered, a fire burning in his brown eyes as he spoke. "Pictures, documents if possible, connections. I want the works ya hear. Hallibel is a reliable ally of ours and I want to know if she's truly double crossed."

A nod of acknowledgement was all that he received before the tall, lanky man exited the room. Silence once again fell upon the room, his eyes pinned a spot on the table as he searched his thoughts for a second course of action.

Something just didn't feel  _right_ about any of it. Whilst Hallibel was a cruel woman, cold to most, she knew which tie-in to respect within the groups surrounding Hueco Mundo. She'd never proposed anything so single-sided in the past, so why would she have started now?

What had changed?

"There's not much else to discuss, get on with yer patrols." Ichigo dismissed, heading for the small cabinet of spirits as his clansmen began filing out of the room, all except one. Kensei who normally stayed behind just to offer companionable silence.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, humming lowly as he took a sip and claimed one of the cushioned chairs in front of the fireplace. Amber orbs lost track of time as they watched the flames dance, slowly rising lower and lower as the wood began to shuffle to embers.

Ichigo had almost nodded off in the chair when his phone vibrated loudly in his pants pocket. He huffed a breath, angered at the small device until he swiped the answer button to the unknown caller.

"What?" Was his answer.

"S'this Kurosaki?" Replied a familiar tone, polite yet holding a certain aspect of roughness as the man spoke.

"Mm, so ya finally got around to callin' hmm Sexta? About damn time too, figured ya took my advice and really burned the card I gave to ya." Ichigo laughed into the mic, short lived as it was the sound drew Kensei's questioning gaze.

"Ah well, you see that's not really why I'm callin' you. I still don't plan on joinin' yer ranks or nothin', but well... you see." There was a brief pause and then some minor static before the blunet continues with a growl in his tone. "Just wanted to know if you were busy tonight. Thought if you wanted we could grab a drink together or somethin'."

Frankly Ichigo was surprised at Grimmjow's request. He didn't remember the last time someone outside of his clan asked him to join them for a drink. What amused Ichigo though, was the without-a-care attitude the blunet had with him. Like they were both average-ordinary citizens, as if Ichigo wasn't the most terrifying man to ever exist in Hueco Mundo.

After asking Grimmjow where he was at the moment Ichigo instructed the blunet to stay put, that one of his men would drive him back here to join him for a few drinks. In Ichigo's mind, he wasn't about to not take advantage of the opportunity and hopefully use the few hours with Grimmjow to well, convince the man he belonged here. With Ichigo and his clan.

*.*.*

Grimmjow was awe struck when the black SUV pulled up to a traditional Japanese style home. A large, shallow pond wrapped around the exterior of the three-story home. Clusters of flowers and rocks surrounded the edges of said pond, only divided by the dark wooden bridge leading towards the front door.

The first floor of the houses' walls were crafted with cobble stone and as the building grew taller, the exterior was shifted to a lighter stone. From what his eyes could see the windows were all barred, though normal looking from a distance Grimmjow doubted they were anything less than bulletproofed.

It was a very comfortable looking house, he couldn't believe a place like this is where Ichigo Kurosaki lived. He'd been expecting... something more damning. Darkness, no windows, heavily guarded surrounding walls; his imagination had conjured up a lot of misgivings it seemed.

Grimmjow let himself out of the SUV, booted feet crunching the pebbles beneath his feet as he walked behind two men dressed in black. One was short, with white hair and the other was completely bald, seemed like he'd even polished his scalp from how the lights reflected from it.

He felt underdressed from the mens' attire; dressed in dark washed jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He hadn't expected for Ichigo to actually accept his invitation, but he figured it would have been worth the shot since the oranget had been on his mind a lot. Grimmjow would be lying if he denied the small connection he felt towards the oranget. When he'd first set his eyes upon Ichigo he had this overwhelming urge to protect the man from the demons that haunted his eyes.

It was completely irrational to feel that way about the man, Grimmjow knew that, but he couldn't help how he felt. Tonights invitation had been his self-proclaimed ultimatum. If Ichigo didn't want to drink with him that evening, Grimmjow could've moved on and at least then he could say he tried.

He really hadn't expected Ichigo to accept, much less invite Grimmjow to his own home. Grimmjow waited patiently behind the two men as they led him into the house.

"Should I take off my shoes?" He questioned as the door was shut behind them. Leaving him and the two others with additional company.  _Door guards no doubt._

A dry laugh left the short one and he gave Grimmjow a shake of his head. As if his question was ridiculous. Grimmjow grunted and took to looking at the decor. Blue eyes stared at the pictures as he followed laggedly behind baldie and shortie.

There was an eruption of laughter from the end of the hall that drew his attention to the large closed doors. Once opened and he was led inside he was met by a cluster of people either seated or standing around the room in small clusters. He wondered if he had called Ichigo during a bad time as he drew attention from half the room.

Grimmjow was just starting to feel out of place when he watched the crowd seperate, knowing exactly who was heading his way. A bob of orange hair set him at ease as the shorter man came closer, only stopping a few steps away. Onlookers watched them closely, some grew to scowl while others were wary of him, the newcomer.

"How was the drive, Sexta?" The shorter asked.

"Quiet, yer boys ain't much for conversation. Beautiful home you've got 'ere." Grimmjow replied, his eyes fixated on the glowing amber orbs before him.

"That's surprising, usually Ikkaku will talk anyone's ear off." Ichigo commented, shooting a questioning glance past Grimmjow's side to the bald man behind him.

"Ay, don't give me that look. This guy didn't say much either, barely heard the fucker breathe he was so silent." Ikkaku defended, sticking his tongue out at the two of them.

Grimmjow snorted, folding his thick arms over his chest as he watched the bald man stalk off towards the groups behind Ichigo. His brows knitted together at the amount of people in the room and he looked back at Ichigo who was watching him closely.

"Didn't call at a bad time did I, Kurosaki?"

"Ichigo, just call me Ichigo and no you didn't. They're my clan. I figured since we would be drinking I'd let them entertain themselves for the night. Not often we have freetime. I'd hate to unwind while my clan are hard at work." Ichigo answered, tipping his chin in a motion for Grimmjow to follow him.

He hummed his acknowledgement and let the oranget lead him into the crowd, not sure in where they were heading the blunet made sure not to bump into any of the conversing bodies. His eyes travelled Ichigo's attire, the man wasn't nearly as dressed up as he had been at the underground fighting ring, though he still managed to look well put together, his hair was free of a ponytail and met the middle of the man's back.

Ichigo too wore jeans, lighter in shade with a white, button-up shirt. Grimmjow had noticed the guns strapped under the man's armpits as soon as he'd seen him, he hadn't minded. Two beautifully polished desert eagles settled against the oranget's ribcage.

The two continued on to the bar, Ichigo getting behind the counter and pouring the both of them whiskey. He took up an empty bar stool as he thanked the oranget and watched him settle onto the stool beside him, his right leg hanging awkwardly.

Companionable silence befell the two, neither making verbal conversation for a long few minutes, Grimmjow had turned around in his seat so that his back was towards the empty bar. So that he could watch the clusters of strangers, of Ichigo's clansmen converse amongst one another. He felt eyes on him all the time, but tonight it was as if he couldn't escape being watched.

It was making him irate.

"Don't take 'em personally, Sexta, yer with me. They're a cautious bunch. Don't care for strangers." Ichigo said as if he was a mindreader. He must have picked up on Grimmjow's body language.

Grimmjow's eyes slid to the man now on his right. He gave a small nod before sipping from his glass. Comfortable that he watched Ichigo pour it for him, if it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have even thought about it.

"So, how's things?" Grimmjow inquired trying to start a conversation with his host.

"Busy, irritating. Though it could be worse. How about yerself? What does the great Sexta do when he's not busy dislocating behemoth shoulders?" Ichigo finished his question with a soft laugh, he would have missed the gentle sound if he hadn't been paying close attention to the man.

"I pick up odd jobs here and there. Try to keep my...I help out a friend. Keep them on their toes so they stay in school." Grimmjow bit his tongue before he said 'sister', he didn't need to scream to the Crimelord he had someone he cared for. Talk about throwing the dog a bone.

"Sounds like ya really care about their schoolin'. Older or younger?" Ichigo asked, grinning into his glass.

"Younger." He replied tersely. Grimmjow pinned the oranget with a warning glance.

Ichigo seemed to pick up on the stressor he held against speaking about his private affairs and dropped the touchy subject. Though he mended the tension by saying, "Mine were too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A side note, I just wanted to let you readers know that I changed the paragraphing format for the second chapter. Hopefully it doesn't make it less attractive to read. Thanks again so much for reading! Look out for erratic updating!


	3. Legend of Damocles

As the night grew late the two decided to retire to the deck towards the backside of the estate. A fire had been lit in the pit in the middle of the lounge chairs. Ichigo and Grimmjow sat beside each other, both having had their fill of spirits for the night. They took to relaxing as the spirits buzzed their minds.

Grimmjow was beside himself with his thoughts, the night had been very enjoyable and eventually Ichigo's clansmen had warmed up to his presence. They began to socialize with him, asking him about his life and how he started fighting. A few had joined them around the fire to listen in on his tale.

“I was always gettin' strung along in fights when I was in school. I'm not sure but fights just seemed to start when I was around. I wasn't as well-rounded as I am now. I took up mixed martial arts when I was young. My pa always wanted me to be able to protect myself, said I was gonna deal with a lot of hardship 'cause of my looks. The old man wasn't wrong.” Grimmjow laughed, the memories of his Pa fresh in his mind.

“Are you sure it's not cause of ya face, Jow?” Ikkaku, his bald escort from earlier, ribbed as he nudged the blunet with his elbow.

“Oi, got somethin' to say about my face baldie?” Grimmjow shot back, rubbing his jawline. “Bein' good lookin's a curse I know.”

Ikkaku snorted with an obvious eye roll in Grimmjow's direction. The blunet turned his attention back to the silent host of the night and continued to tell his tale.

“Durin' a fight in high school, I got some interest from an old wealthy man. I mean, this guy is ages older than anyone I've ever met. He offered me some good money as long as I trained with him for a couple of weeks. After I got done, the old fart croaked.”

“He was mindful enough to pay me even after death though, so I took up boxing at the gym. Got myself kicked out quicker than Hell. Owner said I was too violent, didn't know how to truly control my strength and that he wouldn't have my kind of unleashed violence in his establishment.” Grimmjow's tone turned sour at the memory.

“I figured I'd never get the chance to fight again unless I moved to the States and joined MMA. But that's one contract too many for my tastes, can't be tied down to some posers tryna get me to look a certain way and fight a certain way. Ain't my style. So, then I started hearin' rumors about an underground fightin' ring. I just got sucked in after that.”

Truthfully, there was more to his tale, but it was no one's business but his own. The nitty gritty didn't need to be told for everyone who was listening to get the jist.

“From what the Boss says, yer fighting is brilliant Jow. I wanna fight ya sometime! See if I can top the unleashed beast in ya.” Ikkaku said with a howl of laughter. The man was three sheets to the wind, so Grimmjow didn't take him seriously at all.

The blunet fell back into silence as the conversation kicked off about Ikkaku losing within a minute if he went against Grimmjow. Bets were being placed and the blunet smiled at the dismayed bald man. His blue orbs met amber as he quieted and he received a small smile from the oranget. Content was the host as the conversation continued on without his two-cents.

Grimmjow leaned over to talk quietly to Ichigo. “So, you've learned some about me. S'your turn Ichigo.”

The oranget seemed impassive towards the slight challenge Grimmjow presented. He swept his long orange hair over his shoulder and leaned towards the blunet.

“Have ya ever heard of my clans' motto Grimmjow? Why, on most every wall in each room there's a sword hung up?” Ichigo whispered, the firelight reflecting deviously off those entrancing amber orbs.

“Can't say I've heard much of the background of this clan. Only rumors and I don't trust rumors.”

“Hmm well, each one of those blades have names. Each head of the Kurosaki clan has had a sword made for them for generations. Though most don't know why this clan still deals with swords, but it's for a good reason. Harder to trace and very lethal.” Ichigo stated.

“But, there's another reason for the swords. While the fighting method is outdated nowadays, it once wasn't and the Kurosaki clan reigned supreme in sword fighting. My ancestors long passed believed strongly in the tale: _**Sword of Damocles**_. Ya see the legend went as;”

 

**There was once a king who name was Dionysius. He was so unjust and cruel that he won for himself the name of tyrant. He knew that almost everybody hated him, and so he was always in dread lest some one should take his life.**

**But he was very rich, and he lived in a fine palace where there were many beautiful and costly things, and he was waited upon by a host of servants who were always ready to do his bidding. One day a friend of his, whose name was Damocles, said to him, -**

“ **How happy you must be! You have here everything that any man could wish.”**

“ **Perhaps you would like to change places with me,” said the tyrant.**

“ **No, not that, O King!” Said Damocles; “but I think, that, if I could only have your riches and your pleasures for one day, I should not want any greater happiness.”**

“ **Very well,” said the tyrant. “You shall have them.”**

**And so, the next day, Damocles was led into the palace, and all the servants were bidden to treat him as their master. He sat down at a table in the banquet hall, and rich foods were placed before him. Nothing was wanting that could give him pleasure. There were costly wines, and beautiful flowers, and rare perfumes, and delightful music. He rested himself among soft cushions, and felt that he was the happiest man in all the world.**

**Then he chanced to raise his eyes toward the ceiling. What was it that was dangling above him, with its point almost touching his head? It was a sharp sword, and it was hung by only a single horse-hair. What if the hair should break? There was danger every moment that it would do so.**

**The smile faded from the lips of Damocles. His face became ashy pale. His hands trembled. He wanted no more food; he could drink no more wine; he took no more delight in the music. He longed to be out of the palace, and away, he cared not where.**

“ **What is the matter?” said the tyrant.**

“ **That sword! That sword!” cried Damocles. He was so badly frightened that he dared not move.**

“ **Yes.” Said Dionysius, “I know there is a sword above your head, and that it may fall at any moment. But why should that trouble you? I have a sword over my head all the time. I am every moment in dread lest something may cause me to lose my life.”**

“ **Let me go,” said Damocles. “I now see that I was mistaken, and that the rich and powerful are not so happy as they seem. Let me go back to my old home in the poor little cottage among the mountains.”**

**And so long as he lived, he never again wanted to be rich, or to change places, even for a moment, with the King.**

 

“My ancestors built this clan up in hopes to strike the same fear into the masses of people as Dionysius did in Damocles. Keep the people humble, keep them poor, keep them scared.” Ichigo made a face of disgust, “It's a filthy upbringing to this clan and I work day by day to erase that past.”

“It's cowardly.” Grimmjow stated, lost in his thoughts. A light flickered in his eyes as Ichigo's head snapped in his direction. The blunet put his hands up in defense and cleared his throat. “Not your work, Ichigo, Damocles. He's a coward.”

“Power comes at a cost. It always has. It's just my perspective of the story, but Dionysius is a lonely King. He sits upon his throne able to lavish in the spoils of life, he has only one good friend, Damocles. Who doesn't see him as the tyrant King, but as friend.”

Grimmjow grew silent as Ichigo continued to look at him with a confused, awestruck expression. He gathered his thoughts, trying to pinpoint what he'd said made Ichigo show him such an expression. Grimmjow might never get used to the oranget if he continued to show unexpected emotions so blatantly upon his face. A smile crept up on Grimmjow's lips and he continued.

“Just for a day Damocles got a taste of the pleasures life had to offer, and at the slightest threat on his life he froze like a kitten in it's ma's jaw. If I were Damocles I would have challenged that horse-hair to break, faced it head on and still enjoyed the splendors Dionysius had.”

“Death sadly, is an inevitable truth of life. It will claim us all one day, so why not challenge Death? Why flee from spoils and cower from Death's embrace for the rest of your days?”

Ichigo's amber orbs focussed on his own and for a minute the blunet wasn't sure what was to come next. Had he offended his host? Was there time to mend his mistake? Or had he just doomed himself to sleep with the fish?

“That has to be the most brilliant...” Ichigo started, quieting himself as his voice rose too loud. The oranget drew the attention of his clansmen, drunken and sober alike. The oranget burst out in laughter, too loud and overjoyed. “Challenge Death, Grimmjow? Are ya even sane? Is this the spirits talkin?”

“Wah... how?” Grimmjow gaped at the oranget, a pout forming on his lip and brow. After a moment more of listening to Ichigo's light-hearted belly laugh Grimmjow found himself laughing along. He understood that his thinking was slightly fucked, but he'd grown up learning to challenge everyone's thoughts, challenge their ideals of him, fight for his own freedom of life.

After they settled, small chuckles still rumbling from their chests, Grimmjow looked up at the stars. Suddenly serious, overcome with a sense of reality.

“Here's the thing about time Ichigo, if you can't make the most out of any given moment, you don't deserve a single extra second of life.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter updates, but hey that way I can tell some details slowly and make sure there's still mystery left to be told. Look out for the next update sometime soon, tides are shifting quickly and someone's gotta give some ground somewhere!  
> 


	4. Unexpected Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm going to tear you apart, Ichi, carve my name so deep into your core that you'll never forget it. It will be the only name that quivers on your parted lips at night.”

Azure orbs glided vigilantly over the crowd, adjusting to the dark room full of party-goers. He'd arrived slightly later than expected and with a brief check at the time on his watch, he had five minutes to spare. Ichigo had twisted his arm to come tonight, to the Governor's ball, as his guest for the evening. They'd bantered for hours over why he should come if he had no business being here tonight. The only argument Ichigo had really given him, and a quite good one at that; was that there would be prospective employer's attending that evening.

The blunet adjusted the white bone mask rubbing against his freshly-shaven cheek. He would only stay for an hour or two, then take off after making some connections. He couldn't afford to miss out on an opportunity when it presented itself right in front of him. A heavy sigh left him as he waded through the masses of people towards the less crowded part of the building. Where the corners were darker than the rest of the crowded building, only being dimly lit by candles.

His gaze followed the entrancing flicker of the flame, the orange glow reminding him of the orange haired Crimelord. Grimmjow seemed to think a lot of Ichigo nowadays, but that came as no surprise to him when he figured out how much they'd talked over the last several months.

They'd become closer in such a short amount of time, something that Grimmjow would never have expected. After the Crimelord's initial request for him to join his ranks and his flat rejection, the subject had never been brought back up. It was a relief but also a burden to the fighter.

His instincts couldn't truly relax around the oranget, just from the knowledge that eventually Ichigo got what he wanted, either through persuasion, sheer determination or persistence. Grimmjow wanted to think they were becoming close friends, hell Grimmjow thought highly of the Crimelord and even considered the man a trusted companion. But he couldn't help the nagging feeling at the back of his thoughts that was warning him, telling him he was getting in too deep by befriending Ichigo.

His instincts were telling him he needed to get out before it was too late. Because from his own experience, things always seemed to go bad when the goings were good.

“Ya seem distracted Grimm, what's goin' on in that head of yers?”

The blunet's heart leap into his throat as he tensed, senses going on alert to locate the person who's voice he'd come to know familiarly. His orbs fell upon Ichigo's own, he'd been so far in thought he hadn't even heard the Crimelord approach him. He didn't reply immediately, taking in the oranget's mask. It molded to the right half of his face, seemingly broken in places, red stripes flowed inwards towards Ichigo's eye and towards the man's cheekbone were sharp angled teeth.

After another moment of silence Ichigo took a step forward, inspecting him closely a sharp glint in his eyes that Grimmjow hadn't seen before. Ichigo's hand cupped his bare cheek and he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

“Ya realize that at a masked party your mask is supposed to conceal part of your identity right?” The oranget stated with a soft laugh.

The blunet arched his brow and grinned down at the Crimelord as he replied. “Fat lot of good yours is doing for you then. Why disguise my identity when I have nothing to hide from?”

“Why? Well, to play along with the mystery of the evenin'. This suits you though, the confidence of only a partial mask.” Ichigo commented, bringing up his other hand to glide his fingers over the jagged edges secured against Grimmjow's jaw. “I won't even ask how you got that to stick.”

Grimmjow's smirk shifted into a soft smile, eyes finally leaving Ichigo's to look over the man's shoulder. He greeted Kensei with a subtle nod, not wanting to shake the warmth of the Crimelord's hand from his cheek. It was surprisingly calming to his spooked nerves, but the on-edge feeling never left him. He felt they were being watched from a distance, but he didn't know from where.

“How long have ya been here Grimmjow?” Kensei asked, drawing up to Ichigo's side.

He checked his watch, frowning as he realized a half hour had passed. “Not too long I suppose, you're late to the festivities though.”

“Had someone to see before dropping by. She'll be here soon I believe.” Kensei said with a curve edging the corner of his mouth. “Think we should grab an empty booth before they're all taken up?”

Grimmjow agreed, silently following the two men to the nearest empty booth.

*.*.*

“I've been thinking this for awhile now,” Grimmjow interrupted the silence that had settled around their table. Drawing Ichigo and Kensei's attention. “We... well more specifically _I'm_ being watched.”

“Yer hair draws in a lot of attention Grimm.”

“It's different from all those other times Ichigo.” His voice lowered, tone threatening to unleash a barely controlled temper. He didn't like to be _studied._ Grimmjow's azure orbs sliced through the crowd, ignoring the blushing faces of those who'd gotten caught glancing in his direction. Sorting through the faces until his gaze locked onto those unflinching orbs studying him.

He recognized Ichigo's weight pressing against his shoulder as the oranget leaned over to whisper in his ear. “She look familiar?”

Grimmjow's jaw clenched shut, confusion pinching his brows together. His younger sister, Nelliel, stood across the room, watching him from behind a purple mask. Nel looked just as surprised as he felt seeing him there that evening. From what Grimmjow knew his sister was supposed to be studying for her upcoming finals. He made to get up, but Ichigo's hand bracing his shoulder kept him seated.

“Seems that sister of yours is already mixed between my world and yours, Grimmjow. Do you know who she's attending the party tonight with?” Ichigo's statement sparked venom in the blunet's blood, but his question distracted the anger rising in his belly. He eyed Nel, her sea green hair pinned up with long tendrils left to cascade down behind her back. She was dressed up tonight, a purple dress to match her mask and beside her, a blonde woman watched him.

“Competition?” Grimmjow replied sourly, gaze shifting back to Ichigo briefly.

“That woman, is almost as dangerous as I am. Look sharp, they're coming over and Grimmjow, try to be polite.” Ichigo said, drawing up to Grimmjow's side. “Follow my lead.”

Grimmjow didn't have time to contemplate what the Crimelord meant before the man's hand gripped a fistful of his hair and brought their lips together. Their noses brushed together as Ichigo shifted their mouths together, entirely leading the kiss as Grimmjow sat stunned. His eyes closed halfway as his brain finally caught up.

_Follow my lead. Follow my lead._

Never in his life had he ever done what he'd been told. He wasn't about to give more power to Ichigo by allowing him to set the pace. His hand slid to brace the nape of Ichigo's neck, orange hair weaving between his fingers as Grimmjow met those fire-lit brown orbs.

Grimmjow broke the kiss, smirking as Ichigo's lips chased him, his thumb rubbed against the pulse point on the Crimelord's neck soothingly.

“Try to keep up with me Ichigo.” He challenged, catching Kensei's stunned look from across the table. A throat clearing drew his attention away from Kensei, in the passing seconds of their kiss his anger had dissipated. He had many questions for Ichigo later, but for now he decided to resolve his concerns with his sister being in his company tonight.

Somewhere she shouldn't be.

“Seems you're getting cozy with your men Kurosaki. Mixing business and pleasure? Recipe for disaster my friend.” The blonde woman said.

“He's not one of mine, Halibel. Just a passin' fancy for the night, ya'know someone to help keep my bed warm tonight.” Ichigo responded, “Not a bad catch for the evenin' hmm?”

Ichigo nipped at Grimmjow's throat, reminding himself it was just for show. That Ichigo was doing what he was doing for his own good, probably. His gaze drifted back to his sister, who was watching anything but the ongoings of their table.

A million questions buzzed in his mind, but he would wait for a later date for them to speak together. Privately. For some reason, his lips felt glued, his voice small and choked in his throat. Instincts kept him from giving away any information to Halibel. He knew he should act like he'd never seen Nelliel before in his life, she was possibly in way over her head and he needed to make sure of the facts before he acted irrationally.

“Care to join us for a drink?” Grimmjow asked, suddenly finding his voice, overjoyed that he sounded normal and not forced. Surprised by the invitation Halibel looked at him, studying his expression for any misgivings. The blunet simply stared back, then turned to Ichigo who looked at him almost as surprised as Halibel had.

“Well, this round's on me. Stick around or don't, someone will drink them.” Grimmjow laughed, pressing his lips against Ichigo's cheek and dropping his voice low. “I just want to get a feel for my sister, if she's in trouble she'll let me know without being obvious. I'm not sure if you blush, but act like I've just -”

“Ya just invited these girls for drinks, get to it ya sweet talkin' fool.” Ichigo interrupted, giving Grimmjow's shoulder a shove.

“Aye Captain.” Grimmjow said with a wink as he slid from the cushioned seating of the booth and made for the bar.

*.*.*

His mind was buzzing with activity as he returned with a tray of glasses, a bucket of ice and a bottle of top shelf whiskey. As he arrived at the table, Halibel had settled into the booth next to Kensei with Nelliel seated beside her. Ichigo had shifted over, leaving him room to sit back beside him.

“Any objections to Bowmore?” He asked as he settled the tray on the table and worked at the seal on the bottle.

“A man of taste. You're very interesting, Mister?”

“Folks 'round here call me Sexta, but just Grimmjow's fine.” He replied to Halibel's silent inquisition as he began to pour drinks for himself and Ichigo. Kensei held his hand up to Grimmjow's offer, passing up the drink. Grimmjow looked to the girls and cocked his head to the side. “I promise it'll only knock you on your ass a little.”

Nelliel laughed at his comment and looked to Halibel for confirmation. The blonde nodded and Grimmjow poured two more drinks before finally reclaiming his seat next to Ichigo. He fell back into the facade effortlessly, cozying up to Ichigo's side.

“Sexta? What sort of nickname is that? I didn't take you for a whore.” Halibel commented, making Nelliel choke around her sip of the whiskey. Kensei burst into laughter. A blush flourished across Nelliel's face. Grimmjow offered her a napkin before turning his attention to the blonde woman who was eyeing Nelliel, concealing her concern for Nel.

He chuckled a little before continuing. “I get that a lot. An old instructor gave me the title. Sexta means sixth in Spanish. It's an unlucky number you see, 666 a common symbol for el diablo, the devil. Old man used to say I would take six punches before el diablo emerged.” His expression hardened at the not-so-fond memory of his childhood surfacing.

Grimmjow hadn't told this story in a long time, his orbs dimmed as flashes of memories flickered over his expression, uncontrollable rage consuming him. Seeing red and then coming back to his senses with red staining his jeans, his shirt, matting his hair. He drew himself out of his past by taking a casual drink from his glass, humming at the subtle tingle from the alcohol.

“You speak like you know how to fight Grimmjow.” Kensei commented.

“I can hold my own.” He said, finishing his drink and pouring another. “I'm out of practice.”

_A loaded lie._ Grimmjow thought as he eyed his younger sister across the table, watching him quietly. He knew she didn't know what he did _exactly_ for a living. He figured she was better off not knowing, not worrying for him.

“I'd like to see your skill sometime, Grimm.” Ichigo interrupted, looking very interested.

“Won't you be finding that out later tonight?” Grimmjow smirked wolfishly, cocky and full of teeth as he replied. The blunet slid an adventurous hand over Ichigo's thigh, drawing Halibel's attention to their flirting. At the very least, Grimmjow wanted to make sure she wasn't suspicious, so he left his hand where it rested.

He knew that by now he had to be pressing his luck, no doubt he'd find himself with a black eye after they left the building. His compliments to the Crimelord for his patience so far, he figured that if he was going to get socked a good one, he better enjoy his drinks before then.

The five of them fell back into conversation about the events around them. Ichigo and Grimmjow would occasionally banter back and forth with innuendos, a kiss here and there just to keep up the facade, but the blunet left the PDA's up to the Crimelord for the rest of the evening. At some point Kensei and Grimmjow had argued about cock sizes, he hadn't even been sure how the conversation had been brought up, but it ended with Grimmjow crushing his glass in his fist because of Ichigo's sudden caress of his manhood.

They'd decided to call it a night after Grimmjow picked out a large shard of glass from his palm, he wasn't registering the pain at that point, only laughing at the spooked look Nelliel gave him. She was quick to retrieve a towel and knot it around his bleeding hand.

“We should probably take him to the hospital for that to get looked at.” Kensei announced, “Besides it's getting pretty late. Someone's coming to drive you right Halibel?”

They'd all abandoned the booth and were heading for the coat room, Ichigo and Grimmjow lingered towards the back of the group, the blunet matching Ichigo's limping pace. Grimmjow paid his tab at the bar, arguing with Ichigo to put his wallet away when the man tried to pay. Nelliel, Haribel and Kensei lead the group.

“Sung-Sun will be driving us. No need for your concern, Kensei. Make sure that Ichigo doesn't drive that man away, he's quite the catch, dontcha think?” Halibel chuckled, the tips of her cheekbones flushed pink from the alcohol. “And let Ichigo know that I'd like to meet with him tomorrow, we have some business to discuss.”

“I'll be sure to put a bug in his ear. I doubt he'll be any use tonight.”

*.*.*

As Grimmjow settled into the SUV next to Ichigo he released a heavy sigh. Thoughts of concern for his sister buzzed in his mind, Halibel hadn't spoken much about herself tonight but from the looks of it Nelliel was in no danger for the time being. He relaxed into the leather seat, turning to find Ichigo watching him with a mischievous grin.

“Yer stayin' the night.” Ichigo whispered, sending him a heated stare. Surprised, Grimmjow stared back at the Crimelord. Thoughts racing a mile a minute as they continued to ride in silence.

When they reached the Kurosaki estate Kensei dropped them off at the front doors, Grimmjow exited the vehicle first, coming around to usher Ichigo out of the SUV. They'd barely made it to the door before Ichigo pinned Grimmjow against the wall.

Alcohol influencing the blunet he waited patiently as Ichigo made his next move. Bracing himself for anything and everything that he could have coming. He'd come to know the oranget as unpredictable so when his jaw was grasped firmly he continued to watch Ichigo's brown orbs study his.

Their faces were inches apart, eyes searching one anothers'. Fed up from the suspense Grimmjow decided to test his luck once again and tipped his head to the side, locking his lips against the oranget's.

Slowly their pent up desires from the events prior in the evening began resurfacing. Every touch and whispered promise came to mind and their kiss deepened. Ichigo let Grimmjow take control of their kiss, the blunet's tongue lapping at the others' bottom lip until finally he delved his tongue into the hot cavern of Ichigo's mouth.

Grimmjow's hand fell back into place at the nape of Ichigo's mouth as the oranget wrapped his arms around the blunet's torso. Minutes passed before Ichigo finally broke the kiss, leaving Grimmjow to in turn chase after his lips this time.

The Crimelord chuckled deeply, watching Grimmjow gather his bearings, eyes half-lidded and breathing heavily. Ichigo motioned inside with a tip of his head. The two entered the home, eyes on one another as Ichigo led Grimmjow through the halls. The blunet couldn't wipe the smile from his face as Ichigo continued to tease him as they walked.

Feeling his arousal growing with every step through the familiar hallway, Grimmjow hummed, sounding like a low growl. He grasped Ichigo's hips, stalling their progress as the blunet backed the Crimelord against the wall, mouthing at his throat and starting to work at the buttons of Ichigo's tux.

Grimmjow breathed in Ichigo's scent, groaning when the oranget threaded his fingers into his blue locks, tugging gently every now and then. Ichigo tugged Grimmjow's hair once more, drawing the blunet's mouth to his own. They stared at one another for a long moment, eyes searching one anothers' once more. Each trying to find any sign that what they were doing was wrong, that they should stop. Neither found that in one another. Only a subtle _keep going, more, I want more._

Grimmjow looked down at the oranget, sliding Ichigo's mask from his face, thumbs sliding against the oranget's cheekbones. “You're driving me insane, Ichigo.”

“That's kind of the plan.” Ichigo whispered, voice heavy with lust. “Let's ge-”

“Holy...sh -”

The two looked looked over to see multiple heads sticking out of the doorway across the hall, Nnoitra held his hand over Shinji's mouth as they all made eye contact with Ichigo and Grimmjow. Rangiku was frozen like a deer in the headlights midst laugh and Toshiro was glaring daggers at Shinji for breaking the silence.

Shinji held his hands up defensively, laughing behind Nnoitra's hand as they all continued to stare at one another. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and turned back to Ichigo.

“If you want a show, there's a strip club in downtown Hueco Mundo.” Grimmjow stated while he began laughing, not giving a damn about being watched, but more being interrupted. He wasn't a prude, far from it, but he wouldn't continue in front of Ichigo's clansmen. Something about it felt _wrong_. In the sense that for the night Ichigo was for his eyes only.

The feeling of possession swelled in his chest, he shot the onlookers the middle finger and swooped Ichigo up. The aspect of surprise made Ichigo easily pliable, and just to keep his balance he locked his ankles together around Grimmjow's waist.

“Let me know if this position hurts that leg of yours.” Grimmjow whispered.

“It's fine. Down the hall, last room. Double doors, go now.” Ichigo directed, grinning as Grimmjow listened to his commands.

As they passed, Ichigo shooed away his clansmen, scolding them silently with a stern stare. Grimmjow, oblivious to the silent threat Ichigo was sending his men, quickened his pace to the end of the hall.

The blunet shifted Ichigo higher up on his torso as they came upon the doors of the Crimelord's bedroom. Ichigo unlocked the door and opened it hastily, sensing Grimmjow's impatience and his own desire burning between their bodies.

Once inside the closed doors they were on each other, each setting to work on unbuttoning one another. Ichigo had made quick work of Grimmjow's shirt and was hastily working it off the blunet's shoulders, in a frustrated haste Grimmjow gave up on the oranget's shirt and tore the rest of the buttons off.

“Hope you have others.” Was all he said as he crowded Ichigo, letting his shirt fall from his arms and into a pile on the floor. Azure orbs turned down to look at the oranget's bare frame, eyes soaking up the canvas before him, sun touched skin revealing small nicks of scars. A large puckered scar in the shape of a circle on Ichigo's sternum drew his attention.

_Proof of his struggle in life._ Grimmjow's curiosity drew his uninjured hand into action, calloused fingers gliding gently over the scar tissue. His eyes drifted back to Ichigo's own, who were watching him closely, quietly and patiently waiting for his next move.

“Tell me about this sometime.” Grimmjow stated before pressing kisses against his jawline and moving downwards as he sank to his knee. Nimble fingers made quick work of his belt and dress slacks button. As he rose back to his full height, he released Ichigo's pants to fall to the floor, a pile around Ichigo's ankles.

The oranget kicked off his shoes and pants, then sauntered towards the bed, indicating Grimmjow to follow him. The blunet followed on instinct, following the sounds of Ichigo's confident steps as he traveled through the pitch-black room. Ichigo has already climbed onto the bed as Grimmjow found his way. The mattress barely made a noise as he crawled towards Ichigo, muscles flexing as he prowled forward, his disheveled hair fell over his forehead.

Ichigo waited for the blunet to catch up and just as Grimmjow had made his place between Ichigo's legs, the oranget flipped their positions. He straddled Grimmjow's hips, dragging a lusty groan from the blunet as he rested some of his weight on the fighter's arousal.

“If I let ya have yer way all the time, ya'd have all the fun.” Ichigo teased, dragging his blunted fingernails over Grimmjow's bare chest. A hitched breath caught in the blunet's throat, his arousal straining against the restriction of his pants. “Give me a quick second.”

Grimmjow felt Ichigo's weight leave partially as he listened to the oranget rummage around in what he could only guess was his bedside table. The oranget set something on one of the pillows and then after another minute the table lamp flicked on. Illuminating a soft glow that kept most of the room in darkness. The blunet would take what he could get though, and this... this was just enough light. He was enraptured at the sight before him, long orange strands of hair cascaded along Ichigo's chest.

He rested back against the headboard, feeling like he'd just been sucker punched from the man in front of him. Brown eyes hung half-lidded with arousal, kiss-swollen bottom lip was tucked between Ichigo's teeth, though scarred Grimmjow doubted he'd ever laid eyes upon someone so... enchanting.

Ichigo stared back, drinking in Grimmjow's fit physique, fingers tracing along the edges of his muscles. The blunet drew up to press a chaste kiss at the corner of Ichigo's mouth, groaning at the friction against his arousal.

“Hate to, stop your admiration of my body Ichi, but I need to get my pants off so we can continue.” Grimmjow said, voice thick and low.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and shifted himself lower on Grimmjow's thighs, making quick work of the blunet's pants. The pair worked together to get his pants off, Ichigo sat back on the bed, unlatching his prosthetic from his knee and resting it against the bed.

Grimmjow's azure eyes followed the process, waiting patiently for Ichigo to return to him. The oranget rubbed at his ligament, sore from the exertion that today offered. “I suppose I don't hafta tell ya not to put me on my knees right?”

The blunet smirked at Ichigo's statement. “Why in the Hell would I want you in any position that I couldn't see your face twist in pleasure?”

Ichigo snorted at the retort, panting as Grimmjow dragged heavy fingers over the supple curve of his waist . An act that he prolonged, blunted nails digging into sun kissed flesh and palms gripping, finding purchase just below Ichigo's trembling, fragile cage. Like a bird frantic to break free he could feel it – Ichigo's heart as it hammered steadily against those proverbial bars.

Grimmjow grunted, rotating his hips to rub his clothed erection against Ichigo's ass. A smirk played along his lips as they curved, teeth flashing for a moment at the small hitch of breath that had escaped Ichigo.

The oranget stripped himself of his boxers, revealing himself entirely for Grimmjow's orbs to memorize. A strained and heavy breath caught in the fighter's throat, begging to be expelled outward, begging to be released unlike the other that had him balancing so precariously between the edge of insanity and bliss. He was barely maintaining control, he wanted to take this slow. To devour Ichigo slowly, earn all the small breaths and cries of pleasure until they were both worn out and hoarse.

But Ichigo was making that very hard for him by creating more friction between their bodies. The oranget slid up to Grimmjow's height, dragging his bare flesh against the blunet's own; slowly, tauntingly, agonizingly. Until his mouth rested against Grimmjow's ear and he whispered, “Say please for me, let me hear how badly you want it.”

It was a growl against Grimmjow's ear, Ichigo's hand sliding down to sink beneath the depths of soft cotton, passing over warm and aching flesh in a teasing slip of his calloused grip. “I can feel it, Grimm, just let me _hear_ it.”

A grunt left the blunet beneath him, his hands clenching as he sucked in a sharp intake of air. Pain reminding him of his earlier accident with the glass shard. The pain flew from his mind quickly as Ichigo gave his cock a slow stroke.

His azure orbs glowed as his lips parted, words forming together to verbalize his desires. A raw chuckle rumbled from his chest, his wolfish grin returning as Ichigo's eyes met his. He was thankful Ichigo had kept his ear close. “I'm going to tear you apart, Ichi, carve my name so deep into your core that you'll never forget it. It will be the only name that quivers on your parted lips at night.” His voice, though quiet, was like thunder, rumbling against the curve of Ichigo's throat before teeth parted; warm breath passing over sun kissed skin before the nip of teeth and a slip of his tongue had Ichigo's pulse jack hammering into his mouth.

His words were far from a threat, his body broad and firm beneath Ichigo's own. Grimmjow presented a reliable strength, a promising touch and striking conversation and even though Ichigo had told himself to give up on recruiting Grimmjow to his clan. He couldn't.

So as Grimmjow sunk into Ichigo's heat, the oranget reaffirmed his own resolve to make this man his in all ways. They fucked until their voices were raw, their bodies covered in sweat and their pleasures were spent.

The blunet was true to his promise. He doubted any other name would fall from his lips during any future intimacy. Grimmjow had made like the quiet before a storm, leaving a disaster in his wake amongst Ichigo's body and greedily taking everything Ichigo had along the way.

_It will be the only name that quivers on your parted lips at night._ Grimmjow's words continuously repeated inside Ichigo's head as he climaxed, Grimmjow's name parting his swollen lips. His chest swelled with pride as he listened to his name fall from the blunet's lips as well, sounding just as hoarse as he had. They fell asleep soon after, Grimmjow wrapping Ichigo up in his embrace and tangling their bodies ever closer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to all those supporting this fic by leaving kudos and bookmarking! I hope to drop another update within the week, so be sure to let me know what you think of this chapter.


	5. Abduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again readers, I apologize for the delayed update. I know some of you might have thought I had abandoned the story but I assure you I haven't. I was very busy with things going on in my private life and my writing got pushed to the back burner then by the time I came back to write I had forgotten my story plans. So with a little bit (a lot!) of help from my Muse, I decided to pick 'Sword of Damocles' back up and am planning on completing it.

The moon hovered low and full in the night sky, a plume of breath escaped from thin lips downturned to match the blunet’s scowl.  Wind stirred as he crossed the cracked pavement towards the run-down abandoned warehouse, broken glass crackling beneath the weight of his boot.  For the last thirty minutes Grimmjow had felt a piercing sting behind the back of his eyes that alerted him to the inevitable headache.  It was half past midnight as he entered the dusty building, his ears leading him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Moonlight beamed through the aged warehouse’s roof, stale air filtering the scent of mildew and dust as he breathed in.  His chest was tight as he continued inside, sticking to the shadows as best he could.  As he edged to the back of the building a clearing opened up past the useless, rusted machinery hidden under layers of dust and debris.

From the corner of his eye he spotted movement, he held his breath as he tracked the other person’s movement, reining in the rage that attempted to overwhelm him.  As quietly as he could, he ducked behind an old stack of boxes, watching as the other person edged out into the opening of the room.  From his hiding spot he studied the other as much as his restricted view would allow.  

Within the clearing sat a lone, three-legged chair that seated a small box.  His eyes narrowed as the figure approached the chair, grabbed for the box and opened it cautiously.  The identity of the other person was concealed behind black clothing, a feminine physique was all he gathered from behind the boxes.  Growing tired of hiding, angrier by the second as his curiosity tugged at him - he needed to know what was in that box, the information was crucial to saving his sister.

His brows knitted together as his heart seized in his chest, his throat grew tight as the memory of the phone call with his sister a few days ago came to mind.

_ “Shit, sorry I slept through our coffee plans this morning.”  Grimmjow grunted into the end of his phone which was tucked against his cheek as he dug through his dirty pile of clothing.  He brought up the first pair of jeans he caught hold of, smelling the fabric before pulling his face away with a grimace.   _

_ “It’s okay Grimmy!  I’m leaving now for work, my shift starts in thirty minutes.”  His sister soft voice filtered into his ear through the phone.  Where she was wide awake Grimmjow could feel the burn of sleep still weighing his eyelids. _

_ “It’s not okay, I need to talk to ya about the other night.  Why were ya with that woman?”  His tone shifted taking on a tense weight. _

_ “That’s not really your business, why were you with that dangerous Kurosaki guy?”  She flipped sounding  defensive.  _

_ “It wasn’t what yer thinkin’ Nel.” He sighed, tossing the jeans in his hand away digging for another pair within the messy pile on the floor.  His fingers came up to card through his unmanageable blue hair, scratching at his scalp with the blunt ends of his nails as he continued. “I can’t talk about it over the phone Nel, when do ya take lunch?” _

_ A loud screech of tires filtered in through the phone, his sister’s panicked screams following close after.  His gut tensed as he listened to his sister’s desperate noises.   _

_ “Hey!”  He yelled into the mic of his phone, dropping the task as he bolted for his front door.  He’d managed to race down his porch steps, felt the grass under his bare feet as he stalled in his front yard.  The dial tone began as he almost began running in the direction of the coffee house they’d originally planned on meeting up at. _

_ Cold fury simmered under his skin as his arm dropped almost limply to his side, phone still held tight in his palm.  He wanted nothing more than to be able to make it to the coffee house in the blink of an eye, he looked down at his bare chest, his shorts hanging loosely on his hips.   _

_ It was too late for that anyhow, if he’d only just been able to wake up with his alarm.  If he’d just been able to make the plans on time.  A thousand thoughts rushed into his mind, a bunch of what if’s and should have’s.  They were all pointless thoughts as his chest seized up again, this time with panic.   _

_ His phone vibrated in his palm, followed by a ding! alert. He lifted his hand, peering at the message waiting to be seen. _

**_We have your sister._ **

A gasp pulled him from his thoughts, he watched as the unfamiliar figure dropped the box, a few dozen papers scattering over the floor.  He rose from his hiding spot, storming forward as the memory of his sister’s panicked noises rang freshly in his ears. 

“Hey!”  He couldn’t help the growl that tinged his voice, couldn’t hold back the rising hostility in his chest as he appeared from the shadows.  “What the hell have ya fuckers done with my sister?”

The woman turned to him, a glimmer of shock appeared in her aqua orbs before returning to a neutral calm.  Grimmjow quickly closed the space between them, his eyes glancing down at the spilled contents of the box.  His eyebrows rose as he recognized the pictures.  They were of him and his sister, him and Ichigo, and his sister with the blonde woman, Halibel from the masked event Ichigo had invited him to a week ago.

“What the hell…” He whispered as he bent down to retrieve one of the fallen photos.  It was of his sister swapping spit with Halibel, his brows pinched tighter together as he realized the photo was an older one of his sister, at least a year maybe two years ago.  The photo was poor quality but it served it’s purpose. 

He had to wonder about his sister’s relationship with the woman now, they’d never discussed dating to one another - Grimmjow didn’t date and he had assumed his sister was the same way because of her class load.  His thoughts of his innocent sister scattered as his eyes drifted to another photo, one more revealing that the previous.  He was quick to cover it up, a growl leaving him as his thoughts twisted inside his head.

The next photo he gathered into his hands was of him and Ichigo, the night he’d been invited to Kurosaki’s place to share a drink.  The photo was much better quality than the first one he’d looked at, Ichigo’s usual tense expression was melted into a relaxed state as the camera caught him mid-laugh.  He listened as the cloaked woman edged away into the shadows, his frown deepening as he thought.  How long had he and his sister been watched?  How many private moments had been caught on camera?  

He stuffed the rest of the photos into the box, slapping the dust from his hand onto his jeans.  He wouldn’t give chase of the woman, knowing well enough that it was the blonde woman from the other night. Grimmjow knew he needed to ask her some important questions, but he’d save them for later.  He needed to speak with Kurosaki first.

His lips lifted in disgust, anger rolling off his shoulders in waves as he tucked the lid back onto the box and shoved it under his arm.

***

As he exited the warehouse, glass crushing under his boots as he went his eyes trailed a black SUV, similar to the one he’d been in when first being welcomed to Kurosaki’s estate.  His rage seized him as he rushed towards the idling vehicle, his bare fist slammed into the tinted window of the car, scoring a large spider crack in the glass.  His fist throbbed painfully as he stepped away from the vehicle, shouting profanity as his pent up emotions surged forth.

“Get yer asses on the phone with yer fuckin’ boss.  Ya tell him I’m comin’.”  His voice boomed, rattling his own chest as he stormed to his motorcycle concealed in the bushes.

He shoved the box into one of his sidebags, nearly ripping the leather strap off the side of it as he secured the buckle.  The blunet tore out of the under maintenanced back road, the cold wind on his face relieving some of the heat of his temper.

Grimmjow glared at the lights of the SUV behind him, he pulled the throttle urging his bike to close the distance from the old warehouse to Kurosaki’s estate faster.

***

“For how long Kurosaki?”  Grimmjow asked angrily.  His voice cold, constrained from the thin control he had locked his temper under.  Multiple pairs of eyes watched him as he entered the room.

A large, polished table settled in the middle of the room, with a variety of Ichigo’s clansmen seated at it.  He ignored them all, shaking the grip of the door guard’s hands off him with a tense ‘Get the fuck off me.’

When the oranget didn’t answer immediately Grimmjow rephrased his question.  “How long have ya had yer grunts followin’ me?”

“A week.”  Ichigo responded, his face giving away nothing as he spoke with a level, calm voice.  The restraint Grimmjow had had on his anger broke as he ripped the box from under his arm, wincing as his knuckles cried out in angry pain.

“Bullshit.”  He snarled launching the box across the table, eyes narrowing as the contents spilled out onto the polished wood.  Grimmjow leveled his glare on the crime lord as the man peered down at the pictures.  He watched as recognition flickered over the man’s neutral expression it was gone again faster than Grimmjow could blink.

“Grimm-” Ichigo started, his lips pulled into a thin line as he thought on his words.

He slammed his hands onto the table, drawing a gasp from one of the table’s members. Venom filled his gut, mixing with the anxiety that burned in his chest.  A millions worries rushed to his mind.  Was Ichigo that desperate to recruit him that he’d abduct his sister?  Was this the price he’d pay for telling the man no?  Why had Ichigo welcomed him into his bed then? 

_ I’m merely a pawn to be obtained by the game master.   _ The thought struck him relieving some of the tension from his shoulders.  A rock settled in his gut, bringing him crashing back down from the clouds.   _ Ahh… it makes sense. _

His gaze bore down on the crime lord that held a picture between his fingers, brown orbs inspecting the moment captured through the lens with a frown.  He shifted his gaze down to the polished surface of the wooden table, eyes tracking the flickering movement of the fire licking up from the fireplace then going to the scars on the back of his hands.  

_ ‘We can take a lot more from you Sexta.’   _

_ ‘...I hear Sexta’s got a younger sister.’ _

He grit his teeth against the onslaught of tormenting memories as they spilled out into his head.

_ ‘She’s cute.  Bet she’d take this dick real well.’  _

**_‘Leave her alone.’_ **

_ ‘Boss didn’t like what you did Sexta, says your sister will be getting that call he talked about.’ _

**_‘Don’t fuckin’ touch her!  She’s got nothing to do with this!’_ **

_ ‘...She’s got a pretty set of lips, huh Sexta?’  _

**_‘Bastard!’_ **

His breath labored as he clutched at his shirt, the way his heart drummed against his ribcage reminded him of a bird trapped in a cage.  Frantic to break free of its confines.  A ragged breath left him as he tried to focus on the reflection of the fire against the polished wood, his sight blurred around the edges as he tried to calm the roaring noises in his ears.

_ ‘Be better Sexta.’ _

_ ‘You can do more than this you dumbass.’ _

_ ‘Your sister looks more and more pleasing with each failure,  _ **_Sexta_ ** _.’ _

The image of Ichigo’s meeting room faded from his mind as he looked up, staring into a pair of angered orbs.  He felt like blood run cold as he tried to remove the fear from his expression, his breath was too loud.  Grimmjow willed himself to be silent, to be still, to become a husk of himself.  Sweat dampened his clammy skin that had run pale as he spotted the dark silhouetted of his past tormentor.  His mind roared as he heard the familiar, weighty steps coming closer.  

Thunder seemed quiet in comparison to the footfalls that continued closer until stopping a foot away from him.

_ ‘It’s too bad Sexta, your sister will have to suffer the consequences of your failure.’ _

His eyes widened, fear bleeding into his expression as he made a choked noise.  The weight of a palm came to rest on his shoulder, causing all the tension and anxiety in his body to come undone.  He vaguely heard a snarl leave his lips before his fist met the impact of clothed flesh.  Chaos broke out from his mind as the figures of his memories closed in around him.  His only thoughts were to flee, to take his sister from school and hide her somewhere safe.

_ Where is she?   _ The voice in his head asked him mockingly.   _ She’s already gone, isn’t that right? _

Like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him he stalled out, the memories receded and the four walls of Ichigo’s meeting room were in view instead of the dank, darkness of the pit.  He stumbled backwards as a fist connected with his jaw, knocking his head violently to the side as the eruption of blood poured into his mouth.

Grimmjow crashed back into a chair which splintered beneath him, before he had a chance to get out of the way Kensei was on him, grappling him and twisting him with leverage of his own size and build.  One of his arms was trapped awkwardly beneath the two of them in the struggle, his other tucked up against his head as a muscled arm locked under his chin.   Kensei’s legs wrapped around him from behind, the heels of the white haired man’s boots digging into his ribs painfully as his body instinctively struggled against the hold.

Black spots swarmed in his eyes, he writhed and bucked against the hold, desperate for air.  Grimmjow felt the warmth of blood on his chin as his eyelids drooped, he let out a strained growl as his muscles hit the wall of exhaustion.  His legs gave up in their struggle and he was left to hear nothing but his own breathing and Kensei’s from behind him.  

After his body began to sag Kensei let up on the hold but didn’t let go of the blunet.  Grimmjow listened to the static of voices, his brain began to resupply itself with air as he took in a sharp breath.  Gagging on the taste of blood and excess saliva in his throat, he exhaled with a sob - his chest aching fiercely from the agonizing burn in his lungs.

  A long moment passed before Kensei was unlocking his limbs from his own, he pried his eyes open blinking away the black spots that remained in his vision as he rolled onto his aching side and spat out the mixture of blood and phlegm in his throat.  He sucked in another ragged breath then rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to get onto his feet slowly.

He felt like a newborn fawn, his knees wobbled as he stood, every muscle in his body was at it’s limit.  Kensei’s hand under his arm offered support as he finally stabilized.  

“I’m ...good.”  Grimmjow’s voice came off too quiet and rough as he spoke.  He ran his hands through his hair, grimacing when he felt the dampness of sweat on his scalp.  His fingers smoothed back his messy hair as he composed himself the aches caught up to him.  His ribs felt bruised as he turned around to look at the mess that the room was left in.

A broken chair rested a few feet away next to a few other toppled over chairs, cups on the table had been knocked over and their contents spilt on the tables polished top.  Grimmjow shucked off his ripped jacket, when exactly the leather jacket had been torn was beyond him.  His head felt fuzzy and clouded as reality sank back into place for him.

The ghost voices in his head were silenced once again, their tormenting words leaving him shaken as he stepped over the broken remnants of a chair.  Tension hung heavily in the air as his eyes finally turned upward to meet a variety of gazes, shocked, confused, barely leashed anger from one.  Then his azure orbs came to rest on a pair of brown that oozed an emotion that confused the hell out of him.

He looked away as if he’d been burned, not wanting to try to pick apart the emotion that swam in Ichigo’s eyes.  Grimmjow watched Kensei rub at his sternum, he eyed the man as a flicker of pain shot over his expression.  A pang of guilt rattled in his chest as the white haired man made eye contact.

“Was my fault for spooking you Grimmjow.”  Kensei said with a half-smile pulling at the corner of his lips, an attempt to ease the guilt from his conscious.  He shook his head, a frown tugging at his mouth.

“I have…”  Grimmjow’s voice came out in a croak.  He brought a hand up to rub at his throat, forcing a cough to clear his voice.  “Should have better control when I get like that.”

He watched Kensei’s eyebrows raise in surprise, he watched as the question formed in the white haired man’s eyes.  “Experience that often?”

Grimmjow looked away after the question was asked.  It wasn’t Kensei who had asked though, he looked over to where Ichigo stood.  Well, leaned really. Ichigo had propped himself on the edge of the table, his false leg dangling off the floor as his other was bent so the oranget could rest his chin on his knee.  The blunet nodded just slightly in response.

He felt the members of the room deserved at least a small answer after the scene he’d just caused, but he’d just gotten the voices to be quiet, the haunted memories to fade.  He felt like all the old wounds on his heart had been torn anew and left to bleed, he felt too raw to explain any further especially to a crowd he’d just accused of abducting his sister.

Grimmjow’s phone rang loudly interrupting the silence that had befallen the room.  It rang once before ending, then starting up again.  He retrieved the device from the pocket of his jeans and swiped on the screen to unlock it and with a quick glance at the caller ID he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Tell me good news Coyote.”  He pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Good news  _ Jefe. _ ”  Answered a lazy tone, followed by a heavy yawn that threatened to pull one from Grimmjow.  He rolled his eyes, waiting for the man on the other end to say more.  “Always too serious.”

“Like ya wouldn’t be if this was yer daughter.”  Grimmjow responded gruffly, the strain on his tone reminding him to keep his attitude checked.

“Well, you’re not wrong about that  _ Jefe _ .”  The tapping of keys on a keyboard drifted through the earpiece.  “Cameras caught our Princesa being taken by those cabrones a block away from the coffee shop.  There was a ... _ oh _ .” 

Grimmjow felt as if his stomach had just dropped out of his body.  “Oh? What’s  _ oh _ Coyote?”

“You’re not going to like it Jefe.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, opening them to find Ichigo beckoning him closer.  He paused for a moment, listening to the keys tapping away over the phone line as he came to a stop in front of the oranget.  Being closer to Ichigo relaxed him as Coyote’s fingers stalled their tapping.

“I tried to follow the route they’d taken her but apparently half the cameras in downtown Hueco Mundo are only there for intimidation.”  Grimmjow sagged as Coyote finished his sentence.

He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task finding his sister, but he had hoped for a miracle when he called in his favor to Starrk.  The two of them had long since put their past behind them, neither wanting to sink back into the darkness.

“I’m in a secure place Coyote, I’m putting ya on speaker.”  He shot a look to Ichigo then to the oranget’s clansmen pressing a finger over his lips as he settled the device on the table.  After tapping on the speaker option he rested his knelt down to press his forehead against the table’s surface.  “Tell me what else ya’ve got for me.”

“You’re not going to like it.”  Coyote warned, yawning at the end of his sentence.

“I don’t care.”  Grimmjow growled.

“Unmarked black SUV.  I’ll text you the details  _ Jefe _ . There was three abductors involved, the driver I can’t see because of the window tint.  The other two were dressed in black, and…  _ Oh _ .”

“Enough of yer  _ ohs _ old man.”  Grimmjow ground out, glaring at the glowing screen of his phone.  

“Simmer  _ Jefe _ ,” Coyote yawned, the sound dragging a yawn from the blunet.  “They’re carrying katanas… that’s very strange to see.  Only clan I can think of that still uses them is Kurosaki’s.”

Grimmjow’s brows lifted to his hairline as the information sunk in.  He looked over to the oranget at his side, his brows pinching together as his thoughts flew back to his previous accusation.  

“Kurosaki never given us any trouble…”  Coyote’s voice turned thoughtful as his voice traveled over the speaker.  

“No other clan ya can think of that -”  Grimmjow stopped himself, a thought popping into his mind. He released an aggravated noise from the back of his sore throat.  “Coyote, send me the SUV details and pack an overnight bag.  Last favor I’ll ask of ya.”

There was a hum of acknowledgement before the line went dead.  Grimmjow rested his forehead against the polished surface of the table, relieving the pain with the coolness the surface had to offer.  He sighed tiredly before standing to collect his phone and pocket the device.  As he stretched he winced at all the aches on his body.

“Jefe?”  Grimmjow looked over to Kensei, who had moved to stand on the other side of Ichigo.

“Means boss.”  He answered, rubbing at his sides.  He watched as curiosity flickered over the white haired man’s expression.  Apparently the answer queued more questions from Ichigo’s clansmen.  He raised a flat palm, sending a stern stare to the group of people.  “A story for another day.”

His gaze drifted down to meet Ichigo’s, the oranget hadn’t spoken for a while and his silence unsettled Grimmjow.  A tilted his head to the side, gauging the other man’s expression for a moment before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I’m gonna head home.”  Grimmjow stated with a yawn.  “Figured I’d tell ya where I’m goin’ ‘fore ya send yer grunts to follow me.”

****

Grimmjow woke slowly the following afternoon, pressing his face deeper into his pillow seeking the darkness the pillow provided.  He grunted as he shifted carefully to avoid agitating the bruises along his ribcage and jaw.  He cracked an eye open after a few moments of peaceful silence, the only noises that could be heard throughout his apartment was the air coming through the vents as the heat kicked on.  

He grumbled as he reached over to grab his phone off the charger, knocking off a variety of items from the top of his nightstand.  He cursed as he clumsily swiped the phone off the nightstand, he listened to the telltale noise of it hitting the floor between the small slot of space between the frame of his bed and the nightstand.

He looked at the charging cord finding that it was still connected to the end of his phone.  His tongue jammed into his cheek as he carefully drew the phone up by the cord, ever so slowly.  He pinched the device between his fingers just before it popped off the charger and with a triumphant grin he eased himself off the mattress to stand.

For a moment he stared out his bedroom window, lazily waking himself up as he stretched his aching muscles then released a yawn.  He wanted to crawl back into the warmth of his blankets but decided instead to seek out coffee to help wake himself up.  A passing look in the mirror had him thinking about a quick shower before starting coffee, his eyes glanced at the bruise on his cheek.  Purplish black bruising darkened the left side of his face, he looked rough that was enough that could be said.  

He ran his calloused palm down his face, scratching at the prickly stubble on his throat. With a small sigh he told himself coffee would be his first conquest of the day.  At least then he’d be awake enough to shave afterwards.  Another yawn tore from him as he exited his messy bedroom, stepping off the soft carpet and onto the cold, dark brown linoleum flooring that ran throughout the rest of his house with the exception of the tile flooring in the bathrooms.

His eyes roved over the bare, cream colored walls, his own home was a big difference to Ichigo’s home.  Portraits would definitely fill the empty walls and make the house seem more lived in.  

It would take away some of the echo too.  He reasoned internally as the hallway opened up to the living room.  He glanced at the room, frowning at the disorder.  Blankets were strewn about on the long portion of the leather sectional, he knew he’d spent a few too many nights camped out on the couch instead of seeking out his bed.  A stack of old mail and magazines were laid out messily on the coffee table with a few dirty coffee mugs left on top of the opened, crinkled pages.  He didn’t even want to think about when the last time he cleaned was.

Usually he’d tidied up before Nelliel dropped in for a visit.  He would do so only to avoid her scolding him on living a healthier lifestyle.  Grimmjow shook his head at the thought, a barely there smile settling on his face as he entered his kitchen that was surprisingly in a better state than the rest of his home.  

He crossed the distance of his kitchen to his coffeemaker, making quick work of cleaning out the remnants of two day old coffee then refilling the machine with fresh grounds and water.  He jammed his thumb against the  _ on _ button and listened to the water being heated his eyes tracking the first drip of coffee.  The process seemed to take entirely too long when he watched it so he moved to the sink and began putting his dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

After collecting the mugs from the living room he started the dishwasher and retrieved a new mug from the cabinet above the coffeemaker.  Steam curled up from the mug as the coffee settled, he watched the dark liquid ripple for a moment before taking a deep sip.  Grimmjow sighed aloud as the heat warmed up his chilled skin.

He was halfway through his mug when the doorbell chimed.  He rubbed tiredly at the corners of his eyes and carried the mug to his front door.  He unhooked the chain and turned the lock on the deadbolt, he swung the front door open getting a shock of cold on his bare flesh as he looked at his surprised visitor.

“Good lord Jefe, put on something before you answer your door.”  The older man complained loudly, shielding his eyes.  Grimmjow looked down at himself, having forgotten about his habit of sleeping in the nude.

“Oh oops.  Come inside, I’ll go get somethin’ to wear.”  Grimmjow stated as he retreated to his bedroom to dig out a pair of loose sweatpants.  He sauntered back into kitchen, focused on tying a knot in the strings to keep the pants on his hips.  

“Our Princesa would be shamed if she knew you answered your door in such a manner Jefe.”  Coyote stated as Grimmjow appeared in the kitchen.  

Grimmjow eyed his old friend offering an apologetic smile as he watched the brunet unpack his variety of technological devices.  Two laptops were procured from the bags the brunet had hauled inside while he was dressing, the older man was connecting several wires as Grimmjow fetched another coffee mug and filled it with coffee.

He set the mug on the marble countertop of the island where Coyote was setting up, making sure to leave quite a bit of distance between the mug and the expensive looking computers.  With a satisfied smile Coyote rounded the island and snatched up the mug, taking a drink of the beverage and leaning his back against the island.

“Ya got here earlier than I expected.”  Grimmjow tipped his head as he watched the brunet.

“Yeah well, the situation requires urgency Jefe.”  Coyote answered giving the blunet a pointed look as he spoke.

“Mhn…”  Grimmjow took a sip from his mug, his emotions sagging like dead weight in his gut. He pulled his phone from his pants pocket, handing it over to Coyote.  “Get whatever information ya can off there Coyote.”

“I planned on it.  Also…”  Coyote started, pausing for a moment as he thought over his next words.  Grimmjow observed his friend as the brunet gave a shake of his head before speaking again.  “You’re not stupid Jefe, so you know about the two eyes parked down the block right?”

Grimmjow cracked a grin, nodding his head as he finished his coffee and poured himself some more.   He knew Ichigo wouldn’t have taken his men off him after last night’s events, he rubbed absentmindedly at the bruises on his ribcage frowning at the sensitive pain of the darkened skin.  

“You still fighting Jefe?”

“Somethin’ like that, yea.”  He murmured evading a proper response, thoughts consuming him as he left Coyote to pull whatever he could off his phone.  Grimmjow decided while he was waiting for more information he’d clean up his apartment, he felt gross but decided that cleaning the mess that was his home could come before he cleaned himself up.

****

Grimmjow emerged from the bathroom steam rolled out from the doorway as he yanked open the door rubbing a towel over his wet hair.  He felt infinitely better after scrubbing away yesterday’s grime from his skin, the hot water had also served to soothe some of the ache in his injuries so he was feeling much better than when he’d woken up.  The shower allowed him to collect his thoughts and put together plans of action, he planned on spitballing them at Coyote to see if any of them seemed plausible.  

His thoughts felt premature while he was lacking so much information, but he hoped that would turn around before the evening was up.  The commotion of voices flowing out of the kitchen drew his attention from his thoughts, he wondered if Coyote was on call with someone as he entered the kitchen just to stop dead in his tracks as he eyed three new guests that hadn’t been there when he told Coyote he was going to shower.

“...That’s an old tale to tell.  I met Grimmjow many years ago, chiquito had so much anger in his tiny body. I was running a job for the old man at the time and ran into that bright eyed, vibrant haired hellion of a child.  Guess I wasn’t much older than him at the time, but he was scrawny at the time, malnourished from what I remember seeing.”  Grimmjow pulled a frown as his old friend began telling his story.

“The old man explained Grimmjow was training under him, said it was the only way to make sure the little mierda stayed safe, he had plenty of scars already at that point which tugged at the old man’s soft heart.  Though I’m sure Jefe had a fun time badgering the old man to train him.  Grimmjow ....well he has his baggage.”  Coyote took a sip from his mug.  Grimmjow watched the brunet shift between thoughts then shifted his gaze to the other guests as they remained patiently quiet for Coyote to start again.

“Seeing that little mierda fight for the first time really sucks in a person.  He was raw back then, a blank sheet but even then he had a natural instinct for it.  He was smaller too, much smaller than the other fighters the old man put him up against, but it was trial and error for them two.  One step forward, two steps back kind of thing.  Grimmjow never knew when to stay down.”  Coyote’s eyes shifted to look down into the mug held between his palms, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the rim of the mug.

“It was probably a good thing when the old man passed away.  Grimmjow was outgrowing the old man’s teachings, they only trained for ...well I guess it was two years.  But the old man was family to him and Nel.”

“She knew about his fighting then?”  Ichigo’s inquiry surprised Grimmjow.  The oranget never pried into his past the few times it had been brought up, this change surprised him because he thought Ichigo just didn’t care to know.  

“She knew after he came home all beat up and bloodied from a fight.  You might’ve seen Jefe angry before but if you get our little Princesa going she’s definitely more intimidating than her brother.  Word along the vine at the time was that she chewed into the old man for a full hour, though I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.  I don’t know the details on what the old man said to calm her down, but after that night she showed up after school to watch Jefe train.”  Coyote paused again, mulling over his next words.

“After Princesa got into high school Jefe changed up his path though, the old man was no longer around to keep him out of trouble and… well, circumstances always change.  Cards were not dealt fairly to that hellion.”  Grimmjow’s brows pinched together as he listened to Coyote’s voice drop a bit, the atmosphere of the room taking on some weight as the brunet continued.  “He came to me one night, asking about the underground fighting.  Asked me to keep it quiet from Nelli and to cover for him.  We stayed up all night coming up with a variety excuses that he could use to not come home after a fight, a very thorough cover story he could use for the winnings he earned with his fights.”

“Our Princesa is a very clever girl though, very smart.  I think she saw through us after a little while, but she knew it was helping Grimmjow to have an outlet where he could exert some of his aggression.  She kept to her books and Jefe kept to fighting, earning money so he could keep her in school something that he didn’t do.”

“He never completed school?”  Rangiku spoke up this time, she leaned her cheek against her palm.  Her expression a warring mixture of anger and another emotion Grimmjow didn’t want to analyze too deeply.

“Not officially no, though his records will say otherwise.”  Coyote gave the three guests a pointed stare.  A stare that said ‘I know you’ve checked his background.’. “We taught him what we knew, hammering in as much knowledge into that thick skull of his as we could.”

“We?”  Ichigo interrupted, his tone curious as he waited for an answer.

“Ah, just some nobodies that used to train under the old man as well.  We’d set aside a few hours to teach Grimmjow the basics of school.  Maths, sciences, literatures.  None of us were trained to teach, but I’d like to think we did a better job than any teacher could’ve done with that chiquito.”  Coyote shared an unguarded smile as he spoke.  “He could read and write already, so that helped us all out quite a bit.  I’m sure he’s attended school at least once in his life.  I can’t imagine Jefe sitting down for eight hours in a day to hit the books, the two we forced upon him was enough to frustrate him.”

“School just wasn’t for him.  Nelli though, such an intelligent child.  She eventually took over some of the teaching, she’d get her homework done and help Grimmjow through some problems.  She was much better at phrasing things so that Grimmjow could understand them as well.  Not saying Grimmjow’s dumb or anything, he just takes a little longer to learn something out of the books.  The two of them are a good balance.  Princesa with her book smarts and Jefe with his street smarts and strong alliance with his instincts.”

“They’re really close then.”  Kensei whispered, sharing a look between Coyote and Ichigo.

“Yeah, they always have been.  Jefe’s not showing it, but I’m pretty sure he’s losing pieces of his mind because of her abduction.  I haven’t seen him this banged up for a few years, he’s a very skilled fighter.  Not since he got out.”  There was a hint of regret in his old friend’s tone that drew Grimmjow’s eyes to the man.  Coyote’s eyes shifted down to his mug as if the contents of the mug would give him the answers to the world’s biggest questions.  When Coyote looked back up, his grey eyes were glaring at Ichigo.  “Finally gets out of the dark only to fall back into it.  I have to ask though, why the Kurosaki clan is interested in Jefe.”

The statement stunned Grimmjow.  How did Coyote even know who Ichigo was?  Had he worked with them in the past?  Was there more that he didn’t know about his old friend?  Grimmjow looked at the three clansmen pleased to find he wasn’t the only one surprised by Coyote’s question.

Ichigo seemed to be mulling over his words, deep in thought as Grimmjow finally decided to make his presence known.  He stepped into kitchen, clearing his throat as he slided onto the empty stool next to Coyote.

“Thought ya knew  _ Primera _ , I’m sellin’ my body now.”  The old nickname felt foreign as he said it, drawing an expression of shock on his old friends face.  He offered the brunet a reassuring smile.  “Kurosaki paid me an unexpected visit after seeing one of my fights.  Couple weeks back now I guess.”

“So you’re working for him now?”  He didn’t miss the change in Coyote’s tone, dripping disappointment.  

“No.”  Grimmjow declared flatly.  He reached out to grab his old friend’s shoulder, bunching the fabric of the man’s shirt as he squeezed.  Coyote didn’t calm as he had hoped, but the man nodded and Grimmjow knew when they were alone again he’d get chewed out.

“That still doesn’t answer why he’s watching you  _ Sexta. _ ”  Grimmjow flinched at the simmering anger in the man’s voice.  The memories from last night caught up with him and he looked down at the countertop, he counted to ten five different times before he felt the chills on his skin go away.  Coyote frowned at the distant look in Grimmjow’s eyes, his concern growing when the blunet spoke but didn’t sound completely there.

“It’s not really yer business, Coyote.”  Grimmjow’s voice felt thick in his throat as he turned back to his friend.  He laughed at the hollow feeling in his stomach, grating his teeth together as he looked up to the oranget who had remained silent along with his clansmen after he appeared.  “It’s  _ not _ yer business, but I’m sleeping with that orange haired prick.  As for why he’s camped out front of my house I don’t know the answer to that.  Probably ‘cause I caused a scene last night after finding the photographs.”

“Photographs?”  

“Yea, a box of them.  Mi hermana ain’t as innocent as we thought.  Someone’s been tagging Nel and I for awhile, I…”  Grimmjow let out a breath, then indicated to the fresh bruises he sported.  “Had an episode last night and left the photos at Kurosaki’s place.”

“I brought them with me Grimm.”  Ichigo said, pulling out a bundle from the pocket of his suit coat and placed it on the table. The blunet stared at the offending bundle of photos before pulling them over for Coyote to look at.

He waited quietly as the brunet sifted through the photos, his expression hiding any emotion as he laid them out on the table.  Grimmjow’s brows pulled together as he looked over the photos of his sister with Halibel.  Nelliel’s teal hair framed her oval face, emerald eyes shimmering with delight as the photograph captured her laughing.  His heart clenched at the pure joy on his sister’s expression, in the photo she was tucked under Halibel’s arm, the blonde was smiling down at Nelliel, suddenly he felt like he was prying into something he shouldn’t know about and tore his eyes away from the photograph.

“Do we know who the blonde woman is?”  Coyote asked as he set the photos aside.

“Halibel.”  Ichigo offered.  “From what little I know of her she’s level headed, analytical and a natural leader.  She protects her clan.”

“She’s affiliated to ya then?”  Grimmjow asked, rubbing his thumb over his stubble covered chin.

“Not exactly, we have an alliance with her.  Her name holds enough weight around Hueco Mundo and I’d rather her be on  _ my _ side rather than against me.”  Ichigo responded looking unpleased to be sharing so much.

Comfortable silence settled over the room as Coyote continued to tap away on his laptop, switching between his two devices as he chased a lead. For as long as he could remember Coyote had a way of drawing people to him.  For a moment Grimmjow felt like he was a teen again, enduring another round of schooling.  He noticed the comfortable atmosphere his tired friend eased into the room, the man didn’t even have to try to make everyone in a room settle down and cooperate.  

The blunet stretched his arms over his head, grunting as his joints popped and his muscles loosened up. Grimmjow readjusted the folds of the towel around his waist, securing the fabric tighter on his hips.  The tapping of keys paused and Coyote made a noise of exasperation.  “Jefe, I swear it’s impossible to keep you in clothes.  Go get dressed, I can’t focus knowing your one eyed snake isn’t confined behind a zipper.”

“It’s my damn house Coyote, I could be without a towel right now if yer that upset about my lack of clothing.”  Grimmjow teased his old friend then excused himself to get dressed, he shook his head as he entered his bedroom which he had tidied up earlier before his shower.

Grimmjow settled the towels on his unmade bed then began digging through his wardrobe for clothes to wear.  He retrieved a clean pair of black briefs and tugged them on and crossed the room to his closet where he grabbed the first pair of jeans he could find, he was pulling them on when a light knock on his door jerked his eyes upwards where Ichigo was filling the space of his doorway.

Ichigo looked on the edge of saying something but shook his head as he entered Grimmjow’s bedroom.  Eyes curiously taking in the blunet’s bedroom, Grimmjow tracked the oranget as he explored, the slight limp in the man’s gait bringing back memories of their first meeting.  A smile pulled at his lips and he was unable to stop it from growing once it settled on his expression.  He caught Ichigo’s eye after a few more moments of inspection and the oranget finally turned to give him his full attention.

“What’s going on inside of that head?”  Ichigo questioned.

“Ah, just reminds me of meetin’ ya.  ‘Cept this bed is much more comfortable than the one in the at the fightin’ pit.”  Grimmjow settled back, his arms supporting him as he spoke.  “And we’ve already fucked so the sexual tension ain’t as thick.”

“It’s still there though, isn’t it?”  Ichigo stated with a sly smirk as he came to stand in front of Grimmjow, a little less than an what the blunet would consider to be out-of-reach.

Grimmjow nodded, swallowing thickly.  “Yea, but we’ve got a lot to talk about Ichigo.”  Grimmjow trailed off as Ichigo took a step forward and filled the space between the gap of Grimmjow’s knees.  He watched as Ichigo reached out and carded his hands through his blue locks, still damp from his shower.  Ichigo’s touch was as gentle as ever, touching Grimmjow as if he were made of porcelain and would break if he wasn’t handled with care.

The feeling was irritating but also stirred a heavy feeling in his chest as he leaned into Ichigo’s touch as it drifted down to his bruised jawline and tenderly, with feather light touch he grazed over the bruising with a thought filled look of concern.  Grimmjow placed his palm over the back of Ichigo’s, pressing their hands onto his bruised jaw.  

_ I don’t break easy. _  Grimmjow hummed contently, shifting a challenging glare to the oranget.   _ See me Ichigo, feel how I’m not broken.  Look at me and know that much at least. _

He closed his eyes as Ichigo thumb dragged over the stubble of his cheek.  He felt touch starved, aching for Ichigo’s hands to explore the dips of his muscles and smooth the pads of his fingers over the raised skin of his scars.  He opened his eyes to find Ichigo staring at him warmly, the ghost of a smile easing at the corners of Ichigo’s youthful face.  Grimmjow soaked up the heat of Ichigo’s warm eyes, the usual coldness completely erased from the other man’s face.

In that moment they weren’t them.  Grimmjow didn’t fight for a living, he wasn’t someone who had enough baggage weigh down his broad shoulders and Ichigo wasn’t a notorious Crime lord who brought pain to rivaling clans with a single word.  They were simply men, exchanging heated glances and soft touches.  All his worries fell as the pinch in his brows eased and he finally felt like he had a grasp on the inner peace the Old Man used to go on and on about in during his training as a youth.

“We’ll find her Grimmjow.”  Ichigo reassured the blunet as they stared at one another.  The moment came crashing back to reality as the stress of his sister’s abduction surfaced, except this time he didn’t feel as desperate as he had felt last night.  Grimmjow nodded again, closing his eyes to hide the pain that filled them.  

He knew he would find her, Coyote wasn’t just reliable but the man was like a bloodhound when tracking someone down.  There was not a place in the whole world that they could hide his sister away from his old friend’s eyes.  It would take a little bit of time, he knew that.

After a while Grimmjow got up from the bed and finished dressing himself.  His thoughts had drifted back to his shower earlier reminding him of the plans he’d made while under the warm spray of water.  As much as he wanted to spend the day letting Ichigo map out his skin he needed to stay focused. Ichigo was causing a variety of distractions he thought after readjusting his cock in his pants then pulled on a grey t-shirt.  He rubbed at the wrinkles in the shirt and caught Ichigo staring at him, face unrevealing any thoughts.

“I had some thoughts earlier.  I could only count a few people on my hand that would know about my sister that would harm her.  Two of the five aren’t in the country and the other three are probably dead by now.  But with whatever’s going on between Nel and Halibel it broadens the question of who.”  Grimmjow sighed as he carded his fingers through his damp hair, scratching at his scalp before speaking again.  “So for now, I don’t wanna focus on the who but more of the when, where and how.  We know it was an unmarked SUV, similar to one of yers Ichigo.  Coyote sent the video to me last night and I watched it before I fell asleep.”

The two of them talked as they walked out of Grimmjow’s bedroom.  The blunet filled Ichigo in on what he knew, the time his sister was taken and where she was abducted.  

“See in the video, someone was making it real clear that it was yer clans work.”  Grimmjow stated as they entered the kitchen again.  “It was really obvious who was involved, except the text messages.  The abandoned warehouse just outside of Hueco Mundo.  There’s just somethin’ off about it.”

“That’s because there is something off about it Jefe.”  Coyote interrupted, drawing Ichigo and Grimmjow’s attention to him.  The older man beckoned the two of them closer, he held up Grimmjow’s torn apart phone much to the blunet’s horror.  He eyed the guts of his phone, brows pinched when nothing stuck out to him.  He gave a frustrated sigh and pinned Coyote with a hard stare.

“Will ya just tell me what’s off about my phone? Yer gonna be paying for a replacement ya old mierda.” Grimmjow hissed.

Coyote pointed at a small black chip amongst the pieces of his phone.  “That’s a very powerful tracker Jefe.”

Grimmjow’s eyebrows flew upwards as he spotted the chip, his lips pulled thin as he looked over to Ichigo who looked just as surprised as he felt.  The thought of Ichigo having anything to do with it flew out of his mind faster than it appeared and he rubbed at his temples.

“It’s probably been there for quite a bit of time too, I need to run some scans to find out just how long it’s been there though.”  Coyote stated.

The blunet settled onto the previously abandoned stool as he stared at the chip, thoughts running a mile a minute as he tried to think of when someone had access to his phone without him knowing.  His phone never left his person except for when he charged it.  Or when he was fighting, or training.  His hands flew to his drying hair, tugging at it as he thought harder.  The realization dawned on him that a lot of people had access to his phone while he wasn’t nearby to watch it.  

Before meeting Ichigo he spent all his time training for his fights and then actually participating in fights when they were lined up for him.  It was a full time investment for Grimmjow and he kept himself in good shape by working out daily, locking his phone up in his personal locker.  Which if someone could be crafty enough to have such a powerful device in his phone without him knowing it then he doubted they’d have a hard time with a small lock on his locker at the gym, or to the door of his room in the underground fighting pit.  Everyone had assigned rooms down there, so it wouldn’t be hard to figure out which room would have his stuff in it.

He’d seen enough spy movies to at least have a idea of what a hacker could do.  He sighed as he pushed the pieces of what was once his phone away, pausing with a jerk as an idea struck him.  If he could be tracked, wasn’t there…

“Coyote, I’m not too familiar with this tech stuff, but if this chip can track me.  Doesn’t that mean there’s gotta be some uh,”  He paused and waved his hands out in front of himself.  Earning himself a few confused stares from the guests in his home.  They looked at him as if he’d just grown a second head on his shoulders.  “The thing.  Fuck it, ya’know in the movies the spies can always do some nerdy shit on their computers and track down whoever’s tracking them?”

“You watch too much tv Jefe,”  Coyote stated but looked over the chip.  “This expensive little device is very hard to track.  I don’t have the means to even try to do that.”

Grimmjow released a frustrated breath and went back to wracking his brain for an answer.  Everything about the past 36 hours wasn’t adding up.  His sister’s abduction, the photographs, Halibel.   _ Halibel. _

“Go through Nel’s call history Coyote.  Ya still have that nifty program right?”  Grimmjow asked and looked over to the brunet who nodded, giving Grimmjow a quizzical look before turning to his computer and doing as Grimmjow asked..  “I want to know her most incoming and outbound calls for the last…”  His eyes drifted down to the photos on the countertop.  “At least six months, start from there and go back up to a year.”

He watched Coyote as he tapped the mousepad on his laptop and typed in a command into the program pulled up on his screen.  Grimmjow drummed his fingers against the countertop as he waited he searched his brain for more.  Anything that stuck out to him. Anyone that stuck out to him.  

Memories of homeless people he’d passed by on his way to work, children laughing and bumping into him and his cart in the grocery store down the street, the weird cashier that had checked him out as she checked out the items in his basket.  He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and yanked harder at the ends of his hair, he only paid attention to his surroundings when he was in them then shortly afterwards his mind would be tasked with something else.  

His mind conjured up his hook up a few months ago he’d been invited back to her place.  He had accepted the offer because even after his fight that night his body was still buzzing with adrenaline, he needed another way to get the aggression out of his system, one quick decision later he was in her apartment having sex with the woman.  He hardly remembered the color of her hair anymore, the sex had been fun but it was only a means to an end.  Grimmjow frowned at the thought, closing his eyes as he tried to conjure up what the woman had looked like.

After a long moment he gave up and settled his mind back on track, he needed to come up with what to say to Halibel.  What does one even say to their sisters maybe-girlfriend?  He played out a few greetings in his head, a small introduction, an intimidating hello and how the fuck are ya?  Shaking his head he looked up to his guests who were eyeing him warily.

“What?”  He bit suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Are you… having an argument with the thoughts inside your head ‘Jow?”  Kensei inquired feigning concern as he smiled at the blunet.

“We can read you like a book honey. You’re so expressive.”  Rangiku chirped, reaching out and placing her smaller hand on top of Grimmjow’s own.  

“Huh?”  Grimmjow’s brows pinched together. “I wasn’t arguing.”

“So that was you thinking?”  Kensei asked giving a bark of laughter.

Grimmjow scowled at the white haired man, flipping Kensei off as he smoothed the lines on his face.  He barely thought about what Kensei had said before his mind focused back on what to do next.  He nearly toppled out of his chair when Coyote slapped him on the shoulder, spooking him out of his thoughts.

“You’re a genius Jefe.”  Coyote declared as he pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote a number onto it.  “This number has called and been called, well a ridiculous amount of times over the last six months.  Almost two calls a day, sometimes more.  What made you think of this?”

Grimmjow calmed his racing heart and lifted the photograph of his sister and Halibel off the table, flipping it around to show the older man.  He jammed at the photo and smiled at Coyote.

“ _ Princesa _ has a girlfriend, or whatever they are.  We both know Nelliel barely has enough free time to meet me…”  Grimmjow stalled as a realization dawned on him.  “She’s been blowing off movie night to… I swear once I find that brat.”

Grimmjow reached for his phone, pausing when he remembered the device was currently disassembled on the counter.  

“Grimmjow.”  Grimmjow’s eyes sought out Ichigo as the oranget spoke.  “I think you should continue using your tagged phone.  Coyote, you can put it back together right?” 

“I can.”  Coyote answered before piecing the device back together carefully.

Ichigo nodded before continuing.  “I know it seems weird to continue using your phone since you’ve figured out it was being monitored, but I think discarding it will tip off whoever’s listening on the other end and make them even harder to track down.  Continue using it as you usually do, with a little more care but not enough to give away that you know about the chip.”

Grimmjow frowned at the idea but let the oranget continue.

“I have a theory and it’s just a theory, but use it to your advantage the chip that is.  You might be able to lure some missing piece of the puzzle out of its hiding place.  Right now you need to get ahead of the game that’s being played.  I honestly don’t think the series of events that are happening right now are coincidence.”

“I agree with Ichigo on that ‘Jow.  I mean, your sister gets taken, the photographs and a tracking chip?  That’s too much in one go not to be related.  Is there anyone that comes to mind?  Anyone with the capabilities to place this chip in your phone?”  Kensei added unsettling Grimmjow with the question.

He knew of a few people who would have the capabilities for the chip, he knew less people who could afford it though.  He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought.

“Anyone who would want to hurt you?”  Rangiku pitched in, stirring the ball of anxiety in his gut.

He knew plenty of people who would use Nelliel against him.  He wasn’t exactly the nicest of people and a lot of fighters carried grudges for a long time after he showed them up in the pit. People didn’t rationalize well with defeat, he was guilty of bearing grudges against the other fighters, though he left his grudges at the door where they belonged and only let them loose when he they squared off in a fight.

“I  _ fight _ people for a living.  There’s plenty of people who want to hurt me.  Not so many people who can afford to and I can’t remember any who really stick out.  Underground I’m not me, I’m Sexta.  The orphaned rising fighter who’s conquerin’ big beast-like men like Yammy Llargo.  Nelliel doesn’t exist in that world, I’m not allowed attachments - you three know this very well.  It’s a risk.”  Grimmjow admitted as he took a deep breath and rubbed at his aching jaw.  

“Anyone who has been fightin’ down there for a while can probably afford that tracker.  We get paid a lot so that we come back to entertain.  I know at least half of the fighters aren’t smart enough to plan somethin’ this extensive just to get back at me.  We get back at each other when we fight, some of the guys confront each other outside of the fightin’ ring but a lot won’t jeopardize their position down there to do that anymore.  Urahara would have our hides and our winnin’s for months if we pulled that crap.”

“Alright so, then everyone’s a suspect.  That narrows things down.”  Kensei said dryly. 

“Unfortunately I think we’re going in circles right now, but I did have a thought earlier.”  Grimmjow murmured uncertain of pointing fingers so quickly.  He shrugged his shoulders and braced his arms on the countertop in front of him.  “Halibel plays a part in all this too, but I haven’t heard a peep from her since last night.”

“You spoke with her last night?  When?”  Ichigo inquired sounding mildly concerned.  

“Oh, right.  Ah well, when I went to the warehouse and found those photographs I wasn’t alone.  I’m certain it was her, I lurked behind some boxes and… wow that sounds really creepy now that I’ve said it out loud.”  Grimmjow grunted.  “Coyote how’s the phone repair comin’?”

“Finished.”  The brunet replied as he powered on the device and handed it over to the blunet.  

Grimmjow nodded and unlocked his phone, he looked at the sheet of paper Coyote had written the number down on and dialed it into his phone.  After the first ring he pressed a finger to his lips, telling everyone to remain silent as he called.

A few more rings went through before his call was answered, he listened to a bit of static then was greeted by a familiar low feminine voice.  

“Hello?”  Halibel questioned.

“Seems we have somethin’ to discuss.”  Grimmjow’s tone dripped anger as he spoke into his phone.  “Ya know where to find me Halibel, I don’t play nice when it comes to Nelliel.”

He heard the woman curse under her breath as he spoke, from the background noise he could tell she wasn’t somewhere she could talk carelessly.  Grimmjow rattled off a time and place to meet him and listened for her confirmation before disconnecting the call.

As he pulled the device away from his ear he saved the woman’s number in his phone and set it on the island countertop.  He pushed up from his seat and stretched out his tense muscles.

“You’re going to meet her?” Rangiku asked.

“Yep, no clue what I’m gonna say, but I need to see if she knows anythin’ that I don’t.”  Grimmjow responded.  “The longer Nelliel is in the hands of her abductors, the higher risk there is to her wellbeing.”   _ She’s all I have. _ _ I can’t lose her. _

He stalked out of the room leaving no room for questions or argument.

****

Multicolored leaves blew free of the trees and drifted like feathers down to the grass, rustling against each other as a new breeze picked them up and swirled them around.  The sounds of children laughing and playing came from the playground, the soft murmur of conversation amongst parents drifted nearby like the scent of hot coffee that steamed up from his cup.  One child let rip and ear-splitting scream of excitement as she launched herself down the gaudy yellow slide, soon emerging from the other end with her short blonde hair sticking up every which way.

Grimmjow lifted the plastic cup of coffee to his lips, grateful for the warmth it provided as he took a deep sip.  He stared off distantly following the cascading water as it poured from the top of the fountain, the sun reflected off the water that ran down the carved statue in the center.  Birds chirped overhead, nearly drowned out by the constant murmur of parents trading parenting tips or catching up while they let their children run amuck.

He caught sight of an old clock  mounted under a street lamp it was nearly four in the afternoon, he was expecting Halibel to arrive any time now.  Hell, he’d been waiting for the past forty-five minutes for the woman to appear out of thin air.  If she didn’t show up Grimmjow didn’t exactly know how he was going to speak to the woman.  It was too risky to speak over his bugged phone and it was too obvious to go out and buy another one.

He also had no pull on the woman, he probably hadn’t helped himself any with the phone call earlier.  Grimmjow yawned tiredly and scowled as he turned his eyes downwards.  Honestly he had no idea what he would do next if Halibel didn’t show up, when would an appropriate time to leave be?  Would he go home?  Probably not since he knew Coyote was still there.  He really didn’t want his old friend to split his attention between watching Grimmjow lick his wounds and trying to find anything on the surveillance feeds.

“Our discussion must be very important if you’re still waiting around.”  A low feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.  He looked up, glaring against the sunlight as his eyes found Halibel standing in front of him.  She looked like a greek goddess as the sun shined down on her, making Grimmjow squint to see her.

She had a hand tucked in her white fur coat that hug loosely open to reveal a black dress that shaped the outline of her curves flatteringly.  He took a moment to stare at the blonde woman, she carried an aura that demanded attention as she came forward and seated herself in the empty space on the bench next to him.  Carefully tucking her knees together as she turned his way.

“Anythin’ regardin’ my sister’s safety is important enough to sit out in the cold and wait for a Yakuza boss to show up.  Even as late as ya are to the meetin’.”  Grimmjow stated dryly, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.  “I’m not a very patient person Halibel, so ya might as well fill me in on what ya know.”

Halibel tucked her blonde tresses over her shoulder, giving him a cold stare as she looked him over. She exhaled slowly, her breath fogging against the chilled air.  “I received a text yesterday around noon.  Said if I wanted to see Nelliel safe I should go to the address attached to the text.”

“The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Hueco Mundo.”  Grimmjow supplied and Halibel nodded.

“You know how that went afterwards.  Did you take the box of photos?”  She asked calmly.

“I did.  Someone’s been watchin’ us for a while, Halibel.”  Grimmjow gave her a pointed look as he spoke, his voice dropping as a couple walked by.  “Have ya gotten anythin’ else?  Another text?”

The blonde remained quiet as she stared at him.  He groaned inwardly as the silence drew out.  He didn’t want this conversation to drag on, if he was entirely honest he was uncomfortable about having to sit down and meet his sister’s Yakuza could-be-girlfriend without his sister present.  

He blew out a frustrated breath and shot a glare over to the blonde who was analyzing him now.

“You’re mad that I won’t tell you anything.”  She said calmly.  If Grimmjow wasn’t mistaken he picked up a hint of amusement in her tone, irritation flared as he narrowed his gaze at her.  A smile grew on her oval face, her high cheekbones catching sunlight.  Her tone was clipped and tense as she spoke next. “It’s not like you’re jumping out of your seat to tell me what you know either.  How can I trust you when I don’t know you?  For all I know you could have taken Nelliel as hostage to get a lump sum from me.”

The implication that he had anything to do with his sister’s abduction shot fire through his veins.  His fists ached to punch the mouth those venomous words had come out of, but instead he stood up abruptly and ground his teeth together.  He took a step away from the blonde and turned around then repeated the action a few more times until he was pacing angrily as he mulled over Halibel’s words.

_...a lump sum from me. _

He stopped dead in his tracks as he turned back to the woman watching his movements.  

“So they’re asking for payment?”  He asked, his voice dropping lower as he spoke.  A triumphant smirk settled on his face as he watched her expression twist as she discovered her own stumble.  

“They didn’t just abduct Nelliel to get at me then.  This is …”  His eyes widened in surprise as his thoughts finally came together, his tone accusing as he spoke next. “Yer relationship with my sister put her in danger.” 

Confirming his suspicion as she continued to hold her silence. A disbelieving laugh tore from his throat and be felt the burn of tears behind his eyes as he continued to laugh.  He took two long strides back to the woman, closing the distance as he crouched down, lowering himself to be eye level with the blonde.  She almost seemed startled as he came closer but Grimmjow’s glare remained steady even as he felt his world was crashing down around him.

“ _ She _ is somewhere out there Halibel.  All alone and scared for her life.  Yet yer sittin’ here all tucked up and warm, playin’ the dumb blonde bitch real fuckin’ well.”  Grimmjow growled between his clenched teeth.  Hostility wrapped around his heart like a vice as he continued.  “Stop wastin’ my fuckin’ time.”

He thought for a moment as he watched her eyes searched his, guilt flashing in her aqua orbs as her previously amused expression dropped, he thought for just  _ that one _ moment she would unseal her full lips and spill everything to him.  Except she didn’t and the air between them grew heavier.  Grimmjow’s heart sank in his chest as Halibel closed her eyes and remained silent.

“Yer not good enough for my sister.  Ya have the ability to help find her and yer choosin’ to remain airtight.  All the power in Hueco Mundo in yer hands and ya don’t put it to use.  This is why I hate Yakuza.”  Grimmjow stated coldly as he stood once more.  He began walking away listening to the irritating click of heels chasing him.  Grimmjow whirled around as Halibel caught the fabric of his jacket.  His words boiled angrily in his throat ready for an argument as he met her aqua gaze with his cold azures, his words died in his throat as a gunshot echoed through the park.

He heard the once playful screams of children turn into panicked screams as they rushed to their parents who were scooping them up and running away from the park.  Grimmjow’s ears rang with the haunting gunshot.  His steps faltered backwards as his instincts told him to get away from the threat of danger, pain blossomed in his arm as he swayed struggling to remain upright.  He peered down at himself watching a pool of red as it stained the front of his shirt.  A rivulet of blood rushed down his arm causing his shirt to stick to him.  Grimmjow looked back up to see Halibel’s shocked expression as he collapsed to his knees, a pained scream wrenching from his throat as he slammed his hand over the wound to slow the bleeding.

Multicolored leaves that earlier blew through the air fell to the ground, a yellow leaf tainting itself red as it landed in the small puddle of blood.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly an information dump to help shape the plot of the story and introduce some more characters into the mix. Please be patient for future updates and feel free to leave kudos and comments of your thoughts of what goes on in this chapter. Thank you again for reading 'Sword of Damocles', my Muse and I worked very hard on this update to get it posted for any GrimIchi fan out there to read and enjoy.


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